


Oikawatch

by Smokey310



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gossip Girl AU, I'm just warning you that Oikawa can be a huge dick in this, M/M, also there's a bit of a stalkery theme going on, but Ushiwaka is NOT the stalker thank you!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 63,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smokey310/pseuds/Smokey310
Summary: Life as a famous man isn't easy.
Granted, Oikawa's fame is restricted to his university campus, and it comes with a lot of benefits, like never having to study, and making out with a different person each Friday night. Everyone loves him - well, everyone who doesn't have to deal with him on a regular basis, Misaki would say, but what does Misaki know? She doesn't have a website dedicated to her everyday adventures. She has no idea how hard it is to keep your fans entertained, to keep them happy, to keep them from suddenly changing their objective from winning a trophy for being Oikawa's chosen Friday night hook-up to shipping him with his old rival and current teammate Ushijima Wakatoshi. 
Seriously. It was one night. One mistake, and suddenly, Oikawa's life changes from a rollercoaster to a drop tower.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! :D Meet my new Nanowrimo project! 
> 
> Honestly, this is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. I don't know why it ended up being something like a Gossip Girl AU (I never even saw Gossip Girl, tbh), but it is what it is, I guess. And I love writing it so much, you have no idea. This means that the updates will come pretty fast, so yay! :D Also, I'm just uploading huge chapters for this - when I'm writing, I'm not really looking out for endings and beginnings of new chapters, so the cuts may be a bit awkward now and again. Anyway, you probably don't care about that, so I'll just let you start reading ;) Hope you have fun!

**Spotted:** _Drunk Oikawa Tooru skipping and humming on his way to the IceBreaker._

_This raises two questions._

_1\. Why is he so cute?  
2\. How is he still alone?_

_We may never know. However – one of you unconventionally to otherworldly attractive boys and girls has the chance to change question #2 and get a taste of the most in-demand lips on campus, as well as this week's Toorubear. So swing your cute little butts to the IceBreaker, and remember;_

_You are being oikawatched._

_xoxo_

 

Oikawa stuffed his phone back into his pocket with a grin.

Yes – he was indeed drunk before the night had even properly started. Kuroo and Bokuto had made sure of that before they released him out onto campus to go and find his weekly conquest. But thanks to Oikawatch, his conquests usually came to find him, so Oikawa had all the time in the world to meet some of his friends at the IceBreaker before he went to mingle on the dance-floor and bathe in the crowd's admiration.

He liked the risk, the little pang of fear seething at the bottom of his stomach right before he downed the first shot, knowing fully well that his drunk persona was dangerous, especially if everyone around him was still sober. He liked to give in to that danger – of not being under control with everyone's eyes on him. He was a scandalous guy, born to entertain and be entertained. 

Being drunk made him feel mighty. There was only one downside to it; namely that he was prone to letting his guard down.

Sober Oikawa would have kept his eyes open, always on the lookout for a pair of fuzzy caterpillars posing as eyebrows, sensing that boring stare from across rooms and campuses. Oikawa had made it a hobby to avoid his old rival as well as he could, not wanting him to think that they could be something like _friends_ now that they were forced to play volleyball together. 

Drunk Oikawa somehow ended up with his side pressed against said rival, in a tiny IceBreaker booth, about to fuck it up to an extent that would take a huge amount of patience and tact to unfuck again. Two things he was not exactly famous for. 

But we are skipping a few steps here.

The point was; Oikawa was already drunk when he arrived at the night club he had agreed to meet his friends at, so he slid into the booth across from Shirofuku without checking who was already squeezed into the corner of that same seat.

How should he have _known_ that Shirofuku apparently fit in with the type of people who had enough drive and/or self-hatred to try and get Ushijima Wakatoshi to behave like a normal human being by dragging him along to parties and night clubs? How should he have known she would succeed?

Shirofuku was the only one Oikawa had seen sitting in the booth from afar – the others were probably still at the bar to get their first cocktail of the evening. But once Oikawa tried to slide into the seat across from hers, he suddenly collided with another body. 

"Uwah!” he yelped, twice. The first time when he unexpectedly came in contact with someone's thigh, the second time once he realized that the thigh was attached to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Luckily, Oikawa was drunk enough for the confusion to win over the aversion, so he just moved to get some more space between himself and his old rival, and regarded Ushijima with a condescending look. "Oh my, Ushiwaka-chan, I almost didn't notice you there. You're so stony, you melt right into that wall."

Oikawa giggled at his own joke and reached for Ushijima's drink, which was surprisingly colorful.

"I'm sorry," Ushijima said. He sounded as earnest as ever, but his speech lagged a little; proof that he was not some artificial stone golem immune to the alcohol's effect. "Do you want me to change seats?"

A sensible offer – who would have guessed? Oikawa gave a thoughtful hum as he took a sip from the drink, only to distort his mouth. It tasted extremely bitter - not at all the way it looked. Disgusting. He quickly pushed the glass back to its rightful owner. "No, it's fine for now. I'm already tipsy, so that insignificant pride of mine is..." He imitated two fluttering wings with his hands, and reached for the next unguarded drink on the table, which happened to be Shirofuku's. Ushjima watched his antics attentively, until Oikawa realized that he hadn't finished his sentence. "Spending the winter in warmer regions,” he added with a shrug.

"It's not winter," Ushijima remarked. It was a stupid comment, so Oikawa ignored him in favor of defending his right to get a free taste of every drink on the table.

"A sip and a gulp are two different things, Oikawa!" Shirofuku insisted, pulling at her glass without much force in case Oikawa would suddenly let go.

"Lies and slander, they're synonyms - right, Ushiwaka-chan?"

It would have been wiser to keep ignoring Ushijima, but Oikawa decided it was more fun to try and include him in their silly, drunken discussions, simply because it was impossible to imagine him partaking in silly, drunken discussions.

Ushijima looked surprised - apparently he had already settled for being ignored.

"Well, I think they are related words," he said, carefully. "But not synonyms."

"Related words," Oikawa repeated, rolling his eyes. "That's good enough."

"Give me my drink, you damn leech!" Shirofuku was having none of it and started to kick in the direction of Oikawa's crotch underneath the table so that Oikawa had to escape into Ushijima's space again, pressing him even closer against the wall. Ushijima didn't complain, even though Oikawa was kicking his legs out to defend his vulnerable parts from Shirofuku's vicious attacks, and shook Ushijima enough to make him spill some of his drink.

Shirofuku only stopped when she spotted someone over Oikawa's shoulder, and she started waving her hands to gain the person's attention.

“Konoha!” she yelled. “Quick! You have to defend my honor!”

"What honor?" asked Konoha as he let himself sink down into the space next to Oikawa. The booth wasn't really made for three people on one side, but since Oikawa was already half sitting in Ushijima's lap, Konoha had no problems squeezing in.

Oikawa cackled in response to Konoha's comment and forgot to kick him out of his seat because of it. Besides - drunk Oikawa was extremely touchy-feely, and he actually liked being squeezed between two bodies, even when one of them was Ushijima's. After all - there was nothing wrong with Ushijima's _body_. It was just the guy inside it that made Oikawa's brain short-circuit with anger every time they so much as exchanged a word.

"If not my honor, at least defend my drink!" Shirofuku ordered, to which Konoha quickly poked Oikawa in the side.

"Ah! Unfair!" Oikawa whined, but he noticed the new drink Konoha had brought along and reached for it only to be met with another hand slapping his own away. Misaki and Terushima had both returned from the bar, and Misaki ruffled Oikawa's hair a touch too forcefully for it to be affectionate.

"Go get your own drink, Oikawa," she said. "And everyone else another round - you definitely owe it to us by now."

"No way, it's just common courtesy to let your friends have a sip from your drink!"

"Sip, not gulp!" Shirofuku insisted again, looking into her glass with a grim expression. At least Oikawa had left her the piece of pineapple that decorated the rim - he knew that it was dangerous to steal food from Shirofuku. While taking some of her drink just resulted in whining and a bit of a scuffle, taking her food would probably earn him a stinging slap and a lifetime's worth of death glares across campus. Luckily, Oikawa was not the one who had been made an example of - that unenviable honor was Bokuto's.

"You can have a gulp from my drink if you pay me back with your body," Terushima offered with a wink.

For a moment, Oikawa actually considered giving Terushima the rare opportunity for a second steamy dance-floor make-out. Truth be told, he felt a bit lazy today, and Terushima was a good kisser. Plus, he had never pushed for more, which had been an unexpected but welcome surprise. Oikawa just wanted to touch people and kiss people and then forget about them the next day. But it usually ended on an awkward note, because - let's face it - Oikawa was far too pretty to not fall in love with instantly. It was one of the only downsides to being so beautiful.

"Not so fast!" said Konoha, slamming his fist onto the table and rattling the cocktails. "Damn you, Terushima - you flirted with me all evening, so you better stick to it! Oikawa is pretty enough, he can have anyone he wants."

"Not anyone. Some people here are actually monogamous," said Misaki, who sat in Shirofuku's lap so she wouldn't be pressed against Terushima too closely.

"Or not interested in boys," Shirofuku added, throwing her arms around Misaki and kissing her cheek.

"What the fuck!" said Oikawa. "Since when?"

"Are you asking since when Hana and I are a thing, or since when are there people not interested in you?" Shirofuku asked.

"The latter, obviously."

"Fuck you, too," said Shirofuku.

"Alright, alright, alright!" Terushima had already emptied his glass in less than two minutes, and was now waving it in Oikawa's direction. "Come on, Oikawa, let's go get another drink and leave these disgusting lovebirds to it for a minute."

"Hold on! I'm coming with you!" Konoha said. "I don't trust you!"

"Awww!" Terushima placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. "Why can't I make out with both of you? Preferably at the same time. Wouldn't that be awesome?"

"I'm not gonna compete with Oikawa!" Konoha looked like Terushima had just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "My self-esteem is low enough as it is."

Well, Konoha seemed to be more intelligent than Oikawa had given him credit for. And, whatever, he was right - Oikawa would find someone else. He always did. Letting his gaze drift lazily through the club, he tried to scan the crowd for people he deemed attractive enough, but came up short. Looked like he'd have to drink some attractiveness onto them.

Konoha and Terushima slid out of their seats, and Oikawa followed suit. He had already forgotten about Ushijima, so he almost jumped when a hand was suddenly at the small of his back, trying to keep contact so as not to get lost in the crowd.

"You're not even done with your drink yet!" Oikawa sneered. Ushijima was probably just scared to stay alone with the two girls - he was so awkward; sitting in the corner of the booth while watching them make out would probably make his head explode.

"It was too bitter," Ushijima said, shrugging. Oikawa could barely hear him over all the noise. "I'm in the mood for something sweeter."

"My, my, Ushiwaka-chan. You try so hard. You know - bitter fits you better."

They reached the bar, and it didn't take long for Terushima to gain the bartender's attention, so Oikawa didn't wait for Ushijima to respond. He wasn't trying to start a conversation, after all. He was here to have fun, not to be put to sleep. Ushijima's tall, brooding presence hovered just a little too close behind him, hand still touching his back. Oikawa could smell his breath when Ushijima leaned over him to give his order to the bartender - it smelled like the thing he'd been drinking, harsh and strong.

"Piña Colada, how uncreative," said Oikawa, scrunching up his nose. "You couldn't be more boring if you tried, huh?"

"What are you drinking?" Ushijima asked.

"Why, are you looking for tips to be more creative? It doesn't work that way, you can't just start to copy me."

"No, I'm trying to buy you a drink," said Ushijima, the fuzzy caterpillars above his eyes closing in on each other in an almost fascinating way. Oikawa couldn't help a sharp laugh. So now Ushijima was trying to buy his friendship - it was unbelievable. Still, he wouldn't say no to a free drink, he wasn't stupid - he knew that he didn't owe Ushijima anything, even if he accepted a drink from him.

"Well then," said Oikawa. "Surprise me!"

He ended up with a red-white, creamy concoction - something sweet with strawberries. Oikawa actually liked the drink, so he didn't complain, but he didn't say thank you either. He never asked to have a drink bought for him, after all.

On their way back to the table, Oikawa tested how much of Ushijima's Piña Colada he could pretend to taste before Ushijima said anything. He ended up drinking almost half the cocktail before Ushijima pulled the drink away.

"You'll be sick if you drink too fast," was all Ushijima said. Oikawa pretended not to hear him over the noise. Right now, he didn't feel sick in the least - he was reaching the exact right state of drunkenness where everything felt light and wobbly. The people around him still weren't attractive enough to make out with, though, so he took a long sip from his own cocktail. Ushijima's warm presence behind him made him crave physical contact even more than the alcohol, which was unfair, because he could hardly get that from Ushijima himself.

The thought made him giggle.

Here he was, on the hunt for a nice little affair with someone's tongue, and the only person to awaken Oikawa's interest happened to be his worst enemy. It was a good thing Ushijima was not the type to have random drunk make-out-sessions in clubs, because Oikawa could not rely on his brain right now.

Ushijima lifted a hand to Oikawa's hips for support when he heard Oikawa seemingly giggle at nothing, and Oikawa couldn't help feeling a little excited. It wasn't his fault that he loved flirting and touching and kissing so much, and it was even less his fault that there was a certain appeal to risks, like fraternizing with the enemy while drunk.

"Oh my, Ushiwaka-chan," he slurred, leaning back against Ushijima's chest and throwing a lazy grin over his shoulder. "What will people think when they see you touch me like that?"

Ushijima's hand shot back like Oikawa's skin had burned it and it made Oikawa giggle again. What an idiot Ushijima was... Oikawa couldn't believe he had never thought to bring him along to the club. Shirofuku was a genius. This far out of his element, Ushijima would probably flee with his tail between his legs before the night was done. Oikawa wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

"We both stand out easily, you and I," Oikawa hummed. Even though the hand was gone, the chest was still there to lean against. "People can't help but stare and wonder why a pretty guy like me would wanna be touched by a brute like you."

Ushijima furrowed his fuzzy caterpillars again, but as always, insulting him amounted to nothing. He just gave one of his apologies that weren't actually apologies - in this case, _"I didn't mean to give anyone the wrong impression – I forgot about your fanclub"_ \- and then his hand came back to grab Oikawa's shoulder. It would have been infuriating, if Oikawa were sober. But the alcohol made him feel too good to be bitter, and he quickly turned his head to take another sip from Ushijima's drink.

They must have lost Terushima and Konoha somewhere in the crowd, because once they reached the table, the two were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Futakuchi was just elbowing his way over, one of his hands attached to a girl's wrist. Oikawa took one look at the two of them and knew immediately what to do.

"Hey, Futa-chan! Glad you could make it!" he greeted, stumbling out of Ushijima's supporting grip, and towards a very afraid looking Futakuchi. Thankfully, there was not enough room for him to escape, and Oikawa was free to grip the back of Futakuchi's head and forcefully plant their lips together. It wasn't a very nice kiss, since Futakuchi spluttered into his mouth even before their lips met, but the damage was already done.

"FUCK!" Futakuchi yelled, turning around to the girl's retreating back. "Are you fucking crazy?" he added, looking back at Oikawa. "Why do you have to do this to me? I was on a date!"

"Not anymore," said Oikawa, shrugging. "Sorry - there's not enough room in our booth."

Misaki's voice piped up from the corner of the booth once she was able to detach herself from Shirofuku's lips long enough to form a sentence. "Leave the poor guy alone, already! Can't you see how badly he needs to get laid?"

"Oh, Misa-chan! How many things you don't know," Oikawa grinned, pushing Ushijima into the far back of the booth, where he had sat before. "This guy actually gets laid quite a lot, he's just having a little gay crisis, you see?"

"Shut the fuck up," said Futakuchi, burying his head in his hands.

"I won't let my cute little kouhai be used as a play-thing by a plain looking shithead like you," Oikawa said sweetly. "So you either stop knocking on Yahaba's door whenever you can't get it up for your squeaky little one night stands, or the next time I'll use tongue."

"Why did no one warn me he'd be here?" whined Futakuchi.

"You could just check his stupid stalker-website if you want to know where Oikawa is," said Shirofuku. It was muffled, since she was talking into Misaki's mouth. Oikawa scrunched his nose in distaste.

"Speaking of that website, I know that you guys are all dirty little informants," he said, shooting the two girls a stern look. "But you know what? I don't care. I'm so famous now, I can barely take two steps without being propositioned. It's not a bad way to live."

"And yet you still haven't found anyone to spend the evening with," said Shirofuku, looking smug.

Oikawa just rolled his eyes and sat down next to Ushijima, who was sipping on his bitter drink again, since Oikawa had already emptied his Piña Colada. "Whatever, I have standards," Oikawa said. "Also, I can't just waltz off and get some while there's a hopeless case sitting in this booth with us. I have a kind heart, you know?"

It took a while for Ushijima to notice that everyone's eyes were on him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, hesitant.

"I do wonder," said Futakuchi, squeezing himself in next to Oikawa, even though there was more than enough space on the other side of the booth. "Have you ever drunkenly made out in a club before, Ushijima?"

"I think the real questions here are 'have you ever made out with anyone' and 'have you ever been drunk'," Oikawa corrected.

"I can't really see it happening," said Shirofuku, looking thoughtful. "He's not the type."

"He's a good human being, you mean," said Misaki.

"Who's a good human being?" asked Terushima, who had finally found his way back from the bar, or whatever dark corner he and Konoha had taken a detour to. Konoha was right behind him, looking slightly breathless. "Anyone I know?"

"He's sitting right here," said Oikawa, leaning into Ushijima to mockingly tickle him with his hair. "Mister Perfect himself."

Terushima and Konoha somehow managed to squeeze themselves in next to the girls, Terushima imitating Misaki's pose and climbing onto Konoha's lap. "I can help you," Terushima offered generously, sending Ushijima a toothy grin. "If you ever want to come over to the dark side. We have -"

"Please don't say that stupid thing about having cookies, that's so lame," Shirofuku interrupted.

"We don't have cookies, we have sex," said Terushima.

"Oh!" Shirofuku said, pulling Misaki closer. "Yeah, that's true."

Ushijima didn't bat an eyelash as the whole table fell into a discussion about his sex life, or rather, lack of a sex life. He just calmly sipped at his drink and didn't give any input that would have helped solve the mystery. Even when Oikawa forced his strawberry cocktail on him to loosen his tongue a little, he didn't say anything except for a polite 'thank you', which would have pissed sober Oikawa off to no end, but just seemed to awaken drunk Oikawa's curiosity. Did Ushijima even have a sex drive?

A shrill voice suddenly drew his attention to a group of girls standing next to their table. To Oikawa's surprise, it was Futakuchi's date, climbing right onto Futakuchi's lap and shoving her tongue down his throat without so much as a warning. The three other girls she had brought along fell into a series of cheers and applause and “you go, Michi”s.

"I did it!" Futakuchi's date – Michi - yelled, once they parted, and Futakuchi looked like he was about to pass out from lack of air. "I kissed the lips that touched Oikawa Tooru's lips, and I have witnesses to prove it!"

"Oh!" said Oikawa, as Futakuchi groaned and Misaki commented on how his plan seemed to have backfired. "I didn't think that one through."

"Is it okay if we stay here?" Michi asked, fluttering her eyelashes at Oikawa. Since Futakuchi was still too out of it to answer her, Terushima took it upon himself to make Konoha slide up closer to Shirofuku and Misaki, so that there was one more free seat for the girls. Two of them decided to share it, and Michi was still sitting on Futakuchi, apparently not planning to move, but one of the girls was still left standing.

Oikawa, having a good heart and all, decided to help her out.

"Don't spook now, Ushiwaka-chan, I'm just going with the trend here," he said, climbing onto Ushijima's lap in a much touchier way than would have been necessary. After all, this was the perfect opportunity to find out if Ushijima had a sex drive. Making him pop a boner would be even better than to see him run out of the club. It was the perfect revenge. And it seemed to work - Ushijima froze as soon as Oikawa's butt touched him, and his hand gripped around his cocktail so tightly, it seemed like the glass would shatter any minute.

"Relax!" Oikawa grinned. "It's just a booty, it's not gonna eat you!"

His friends all watched them with barely suppressed grins, and Oikawa playfully wriggled his butt a little.

"Please don't do that," Ushijima ground out, and Oikawa was just about to give a triumphant whoop, when Ushijima said: "It hurts. You're a little bony."

Not even Oikawa's drunken haze could take this kind of insult.

"Are you saying that I have a bony ass?" he shrieked, turning around to give Ushijima a death glare. "Do you have any idea what most people would give to have my ass on their laps?"

"You can sit on me, if you want," one of the girls offered almost shyly.

"See?" Oikawa huffed, not even looking at the girl. "I could sit on her!"

"Yes, I see," said Ushijima.

"So what, you want me to go and sit on her?"

"I don't think she could take your weight."

Shirofuku and Misaki both broke out into a laughing fit while Oikawa spluttered from sheer outrage.

"What now?" he shrieked. "Am I bony or fat? Make up your damn mind!"

Ushijima had his usual look of awkward confusion, as if he didn't understand what he had done wrong now. "I didn't mean it like that," he explained, looking utterly helpless. "I don't mind you sitting on me. And your body is perfect, so-"

"That's right!" Oikawa interrupted, leaning back into Ushijima with a huff. " _Perfect_ \- you all heard that, right?"

"Sure," the others said, still grinning at the scene. Well - they could grin all they wanted, Oikawa liked being the center of attention, so he was more than happy to be grinned at.

“Finally you're saying sensible things, Ushiwaka-chan. Next you should tell me that I'm beautiful.”

Ushijima's confusion was still blatantly written all over his face.

“But you already know that you're beautiful,” he said, looking at Shirofuku and Misaki for help, but both of them just giggled. “I don't see why you need to be reminded so often.”

“I'll gladly remind you as often as you want,” Michi suddenly cut in. One of her hands had strayed onto Oikawa's thigh, and he quickly shook it off, annoyed that she dared to interrupt a conversation in which Ushijima was forced to compliment his looks. 

“Ah, ah – no touching while you're sitting in Futa-chan's lap – I may dislike him right now, but I'm still very protective of him,” he said, to which the girls just aaawed and ooohed, as if he had once again proven his white knight status. 

“One day, I'm going to kill you,” said Futakuchi. 

“I have long since come to terms with the fact that I will be murdered by a jealous guy who can't deal with my beauty and fame,” Oikawa retorted easily. He enjoyed getting on Futakuchi's nerves, because Futakuchi blushed with rage oh so prettily. In moments like these, he almost understood what Yahaba saw in the guy. 

“I don't think you will be murdered.”

Oikawa almost didn't realize that the words had come from Ushijima – it was the first time this evening Ushijima had spoken out of his own volition instead of just answering the questions thrown at him. He seemed to have relaxed a little – the muscles in his thighs were no longer tensed up, and the grip around his glass had loosened. Oikawa automatically sunk into him, much more comfortable than before. 

“Oh?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow in the most annoying way he could muster. “You've already contemplated about my death?”

“Not particularly,” Ushijima said. He didn't elaborate further, but emptied his glass with one, long gulp. Only when he noticed that no one had started talking again and everyone was still looking at him, did he think to explain his sudden interest in the conversation. “You don't look after yourself. You have no estimate over how much your body can take. If you don't have someone to stop you, you will simply... go too far.”

Oikawa was faintly aware that his mouth was hanging open, and he turned around to his friends to gape at them.

“Did I just hear right? Is Ushijima Wakatoshi seriously telling me that I'm overworking myself? I think I need another drink.”

He reached for something the girls had brought along, but was stopped by Ushijima's hand snatching his wrist.

“I don't just mean sports,” Ushijima said. “You like to go overboard with everything. Including this.”

Oikawa looked at his own outstretched hand, ready to take the cocktail glass on the table and Ushijima's bigger hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him - and the anger finally managed to break through the wall of alcohol-induced cheerfulness. He turned around, pinning Ushijima with a glare which made the grip around his wrist instantly loosen up. Ushijima recoiled, head almost colliding with the wall behind him.

“Don't you dare,” Oikawa growled, his now free hand punching into the wall next to Ushijima's head. “Don't you fucking dare trying to tell me how to live my life.”

Ushijima just stared at him, his face unmoving, as Oikawa shifted in his lap to straddle him, his other hand coming up to cage Ushijima's head and forcing him to look at Oikawa's face. 

“Why do you even try to psychoanalyze people when you're so bad at it?” he spat. He was too angry to care about everyone watching, and he was too angry to play this game fairly, so he slid up against Ushijima, until he could feel an unexpected hardness pushing against his pants. Ushijima, who had so far kept a stony, unblinking expression, finally closed his eyes in defeat. 

“You wanna know how it feels to be psychoanalyzed? Because I'll show you,” Oikawa said, leaning in closer to whisper in Ushijima's ear so no one else could hear what he was saying. “I know that you wanna fuck me,” he whispered. Ushijima's hand, which had somehow landed on Oikawa's thigh to push him off, gave an involuntary twitch. “I've known it for a while,” he lied. “It's written in your eyes, every time you look at me.”

Only now that he thought about it did he realize that it was the truth. Five minutes ago, he had been wondering if Ushijima even had a sex drive. Now, with Ushijima's boner pushing so clearly against his thigh, Oikawa didn't understand how he had never seen it. 

“You've wanted to fuck me since high school. You never actually cared about playing on the same team as me. All you wanted was to ogle me in the showers after a game. Don't try to deny it – I always noticed your staring. It's super creepy. And you know what? I'm disgusted. You disgust me. I would never - _never_ sleep with you. Do you understand? I could get up right now and expose you to everyone sitting here. And I know that only turns you on even more, you sick, perverted bastard.”

“Cut it out, Oikawa!”

Misaki was the one putting her fist down – she always was. Her time as a manager for Johzenji must have made her used to handling boys who liked to cross lines. Oikawa leaned back out of Ushijima's space to throw her a fake grin over his shoulders.

“What? I'm not doing anything,” he said innocently.

“We can see him trembling from over here,” said Shirofuku. “And we just managed to coax him into going out with us. So don't ruin this now, we actually like Ushijima, you know?”

“Better than you anyway,” Misaki added.

Oikawa turned around on Ushijima's lap with a huff – he noticed that Ushijima's thighs were tense again. Maybe he expected Oikawa to get up and expose his boner. There was a rush of power adding to the alcohol in Oikawa's veins, and he suddenly felt drunk again. 

“So what?” Oikawa waved a hand as if to chase away an annoying fly. “You're lesbians, so your opinions on men don't count.”

Misaki looked like she was this close to throwing her cocktail in Oikawa's face.

“Besides,” Oikawa said, leaning back against Ushijima to ruffle his hair. “Other people pay a lot of money to get such a thorough psycho-analysis.”

It was almost too quiet to hear when Ushijima talked again.

“You're wrong,” he said. Oikawa didn't look at him, just cocked an eyebrow again as if to show his friends that he couldn't wait for what came out of Ushijima's mouth next.

“I always wanted to play volleyball with you. There's nothing I enjoy more.”

“Yeah,” said Oikawa, finally reaching for the girl's cocktail that stood still untouched on the table. “I'm gonna have this now.”

He emptied the glass with one big gulp, enjoying the way Ushijima's fingers dug into his thighs, not daring to stop him again. After, he leaned over the table, towards the girl he had stolen the cocktail from, and kissed her square on the lips as thanks. 

Terushima and Konoha both whooped, and the four girls all screeched, but the rest of Oikawa's friends rolled their eyes with a groan.

“You're the worst,” Misaki said, pulling a bottle of water out of her purse to offer the girl Oikawa had kissed. “Gurgle this to get the taste off.”

“Are you crazy?” the girl said. “I'm never brushing my teeth again!”

Misaki pulled a face, but didn't say anything more, except for an exasperated, “Straights!” under her breath. 

“You don't have to be jealous, Misa-chan,” Oikawa grinned. “I will kiss you, too.”

“Fuck off,” said Shirofuku. 

“In fact, I will kiss everyone at this table,” he announced, his arms thrown up in the air. “Every single one of you people I would kiss – except for this big, stupid oaf right here.” He turned around to catch Ushijima's face in a painful grip, and leaned in so close that his breath brushed Ushijima's lips. “I would never kiss you. And you know why? Because I hate you.”

“Okay!” said Futakuchi, who seemed to finally have gotten his voice back. “Would you please stop bullying poor Ushijima? What is your problem anyway?”

“Yeah, you're... kind of different with him here,” Konoha agreed. “Aren't you playing on the same team? I thought you were... I don't know. Friends?”

“HA!” Oikawa yelled, as if Konoha had just made the best joke he'd ever heard.

“Dude, you're scary,” said Konoha. 

“We are enemies, okay? Just because we're forced to play on the same team doesn't change that. Besides, playing with Ushijima is boring. I've never been this bored with volleyball before. He's a dictator on the court, and I _hate_ playing with someone like that. Everything always has to revolve around him. It's bullshit, and it's boring.”

Oikawa took a deep breath, expecting someone to yell a good-natured insult back at him, but the moment he looked around the table and saw everyone, including Michi and her friends, just staring at him in silent horror, he knew he had gone too far. He had taken every light, teasing undertone out of the conversation and accidentally blurted out his real feelings. 

Everyone was quiet for a few more seconds, then Misaki said: “Get out!”

“I'm...” Oikawa started, but she didn't let him finish.

“Get out of here. Go home, sleep away all the alcohol and tomorrow morning, when you hopefully feel like you've been run over by a truck, you will call Ushijima, and you will apologize.”

Oikawa silently stared at her, waiting for her to change her mind.

“I mean it,” she said, sounding like she really did mean it. “Until you apologized for real, none of us will ever talk to you again.”

“Yeah, man,” Terushima agreed. “That really wasn't cool.”

Alright, fuck. If even Terushima thought he was behaving like an asshole, Misaki probably had a point. Still, Oikawa did not like being made to look stupid in front of strangers. He glared at all of them individually, and when no one cracked, he gave a huff.

“Whatever,” he said. “This was getting ridiculous anyway. So, move! Let me get out of here. I have things to do.”

The people on his side of the booth all awkwardly slid out of their seats one after the other, until Oikawa was able to squeeze out. He didn't look back at Ushijima. Now that he was back on his own feet, he realized that he was barely able to stand up straight. 

He lifted a hand in goodbye before he stumbled away.

The crowd held him upright, more or less, helping him get to the bar, where he ordered a coke. There was no point in more alcohol – Ushijima had managed to ruin even that. Besides, his throat was burning from thirst. He was faintly aware of random people coming up to him, trying to talk, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to really register them. With his coke in hand, he went to look for a place he could hide and calm down.

He ended up in a different room than the one with the bar in it. The club consisted of three rooms; one with a bar, one with a dance-floor, and one with a billiard table, some dart boards and a few rancid sofas. Most people were on the dance-floor right now, so Oikawa found a whole sofa just for himself, and let himself sink down in it, hoping that people would just leave him alone for once.

Of course, it didn't take long for a body to plop down next to him.

“Please go away,” Oikawa said without looking up. He really wasn't in the mood to socialize right now, but he wouldn't let that asshole Ushijima ruin his night out. Maybe after half an hour of moping, he would be fine again.

“You don't own this sofa, jackass,” the person next to him said. Oikawa recognized Futakuchi's voice instantly. 

“What the fuck do you want?”

“I want to annoy you to death, now that I don't have a date to concentrate on anymore,” Futakuchi said, taking the coke out of Oikawa's hand to drink the last few drops. Oikawa didn't react to any of his antics, until Futakuchi lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Cheer up, man. This is painful to look at.”

“Why don't you go mind your own business?” Oikawa spat. “Or is everyone's new best friend Ushijima not able to hold your interest for longer than a few minutes?”

“Damn,” said Futakuchi. “You really have a chip on your shoulder about him, huh?”

“I just think it's funny how he can blurt out everything he's thinking, no matter how mean it is – but as soon as the tables are turned on him, it's all, 'Poor Ushijima, how dare anyone say the truth about our golden ace?' Boo hoo!”

Futakuchi just stared at him in silence for a moment, before he groaned.

“You know what? I really didn't come here to try and tackle whatever weird kind of sexual tension the two of you are battling right now. You can go pay a therapist for that.”

Oikawa already regretted his decision to not buy more alcohol.

“Then what did you come here for?” he asked.

“I already told you. To annoy you.”

“Well congratulations, you're doing an amazing job of it.” Oikawa snatched his empty glass back and pushed it against his nape to cool down. It was way too hot in this stupid club. Maybe that was why no one here looked good in Oikawa's eyes – they were all sweaty and gross and not worth being kissed by Oikawa's perfectly balmed lips.

Damn, he just really wanted to meet someone nice.

"So..." Futakuchi suddenly leaned back into the sofa, faking comfort. It was way too obvious. Oikawa was sure that he was just about to find out the real reason why Futakuchi had come after him - and chose to sit next to him in the booth. Futakuchi opened his mouth, closed it again, and stared off into space. Then, finally: "Yahaba talked to you, huh?"

Of course it was about Yahaba. Oikawa didn't bother to swallow his snort.

"Are you trying to make me talk about your failing love life right after you told me to go see a therapist?"

Futakuchi pulled a grimace, but he didn't say anything to defend himself.

"You sure are lucky that I like Yahaba so much," Oikawa huffed. "He's one of the people I really want to be happy."

"So what did he say to you?"

"Nothing," said Oikawa. "I just... like to keep an eye on the people I like. And it's unmistakable what's happening between the two of you. My dorm is right next to his, after all."

Futakuchi blushed that pretty shade of red that looked so good on him, and Oikawa's mood suddenly got lighter.

"It's quite impressive that you can make him _mewl_ , by the way."

"Oh my God!" Futakuchi buried his face in his hands again. "Please shut up."

"Five seconds ago you were begging me to talk."

"And now I'm begging you to shut up."

"Well, I won't," Oikawa said. "Because you need to hear what I'm about to say."

The smile on Oikawa's face never wavered as he leaned in to stare at Futakuchi unblinking. But he pushed the good mood somewhere far away in his brain. Futakuchi had to know that he was not joking about this.

"Yahaba is a good guy. He doesn't care that you're having trouble figuring out your sexuality. He'd give you all the time in the world and he'd respect your decision, even if it hurts him. Me? I'm an asshole. I'm bitter and petty, and if I ever see him making those sad dog eyes at you and your current flavor of the week across the campus cafeteria again, I will hunt you down and kick your ass to the moon. So you better stop giving him false hope, because if you can't suppress the need to stick your dick in a guy's ass, there are a million different apps you can use to find a dirty one night stand in your area. You don't have to use the one guy who actually likes you for that. Are we clear?"

Futakuchi looked like Oikawa had just verbally punched every breath out of him.

"Fuck," he said, finally. "You can be really scary, do you know that?"

"I asked if we're clear," Oikawa said.

"Yeah. Crystal."

"Good." Oikawa threw an arm around Futakuchi's shoulder and ruffled his hair with one hand. "I'm glad you understand."

"I do. You're right, I'm being an asshole."

It sounded like there was a 'but' coming, and one second later, Oikawa was proven right.

"But you know what? I just figured out what the difference is between you and Ushijima," Futakuchi said, looking somewhere behind Oikawa. Turning around, Oikawa noticed Ushijima awkwardly standing next to Terushima and Konoha, who were making out against the billiard table. Ushijima was trying hard not to watch them, instead busying himself with rolling the yellow ball back and forth between his hands. Oikawa had to close his eyes upon the pathetic sight.

"Enlighten me," he sighed, when Futakuchi didn't elaborate.

"You're right about Ushijima unthinkingly blurting out harsh truths. But he never does it to hurt people on purpose. Because unlike you, he's not an asshole."

Futakuchi got up from the couch, fishing for his cell phone and waving it about. "Now, if you'll excuse me - I need to make a call."

"Yeah," Oikawa said, waving him away. "Good luck."

"To you, too."

After Futakuchi was gone, Oikawa quickly spread out on the sofa so no one else would sit next to him. The room was starting to fill with people who were looking for a free surface to make out against. The sofas were a popular choice, obviously, but Oikawa would fight for his seat. His thoughts ran oddly clear, despite the whirlpools before his eyes. He just wanted to lie down for a bit and think of nothing.

Thinking of nothing didn't work, so he decided to give up the sofa after all. Maybe with more alcohol in his system, he would finally have fun again, so he went back into the room with the bar and got an okay-looking blond guy to buy him another cocktail. He only contemplated making out with him for a second before he "accidentally" lost the guy in the crowd again. When he stumbled back into the sofa-room, he realized that he was holding two cocktails - the guy had bought one for himself, too, and Oikawa had unthinkingly snatched it.

Oh well, nothing he could do about it now.

Besides. There was someone who could need the drink more than okay-looking blond dude.

"Hey," Oikawa said. To his chagrin, Ushijima was not the only one looking up. Konoha and Terushima had also recognized his voice and interrupted their make-out-session to curiously stare at him. Oikawa decided to ignore them.

"I bought you a drink," he said, pushing the less colorful cocktail into Ushijima's hands. "So you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now."

"Uhm..." was all Ushijima could say before Terushima gave a loud whoop.

"Damn, Ushijima - you actually got Oikawa to buy you a drink, that's like... that's like a marriage proposal!"

"Yeah, actually I stole the drink," Oikawa said. He didn't want Ushijima to think this was something like a marriage proposal. Ushijima was too literal - he would probably take it seriously.

"On accident," he said, when Ushijima gave him a look. "In any case, I decided to give it to you, so are you thankful or not?"

"I understand," Ushijima said, taking a careful sip from the drink. "It's sweet. I like it."

"Okay then, we're good." Oikawa ignored the snort his words awakened in Konoha and Terushima.

"We are as we always are," Ushijima said. "There is no need for you to apologize. I already knew that you hate me. You have never lied about that."

"I'm not... I don't..." Oikawa pressed his eyes closed again, feeling a headache coming. He could still hear Konoha and Terushima cackling.

"Man, you're awful at this," Konoha commented. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Just say that you're sorry!"

"And then what?" Oikawa snapped. "Me saying sorry won't save him from being a big awkward oaf, now will it? So!" He looked back at Ushijima, who had not reacted to the insult in any way. "I will give you something better. Something you can actually use. I'll get you laid."

"Hear, hear!" Terushima whooped again, while Konoha spluttered with laughter.

"Thank you, but-" Ushijima started. Oikawa quickly muted him by pushing a finger against his lips.

"After all, you need to get over me, and quickly," he whispered so that Terushima and Konoha wouldn't hear. "Don't you agree?"

Ushijima didn't look like he agreed at all, but he gave up arguing and settled for taking a big gulp from his drink.

"There, that's better," Oikawa said. He couldn't help looking a bit smug. Getting Ushijima laid shouldn't be that hard. For reasons unknown to Oikawa, Ushijima had quite the fan-club himself. It existed more out of politeness because Ushijima happened to be the ace of the volleyball team, and it would give their university a bad image if the ace didn't have any fans. Besides, there were always groupies chasing after the strongest guys, no matter how oafish they looked.

The secret to Ushijima's effect on people had to be his brutish power.

"Okay," Oikawa said, nodding at his own ingenuity. "First of all, we need to establish you as the most powerful man in this room."

"How drunk are you?" Konoha snorted. "This is not the stone age."

"Believe me, for some of these people, it might as well be." Oikawa looked around the room, trying to come up with a plan. He couldn't just have Ushijima start a brawl in here, no matter how much fun it would be. "So..." he hummed. "How does one establish oneself as the most powerful?"

"The most powerful are those who win," Ushijima explained in his usual cavemannish way. For once, it was an actual helpful comment.

"Of course!" Oikawa beamed. "And we just happen to be in the game room, too! Now..." He stared down at the billiard table, on which Terushima and Konoha were still lying, and made a face. "Well, not billiard. That thing is forever tainted. But how about a nice game of darts?"

"Who will I play against?" Ushijima asked, already walking over to the dart board. A bunch of darts were sticking out of it and he pulled them out with enough force to bend them.

Of course he would be a brute about this. Oikawa gave an exasperated sigh, but no one was paying attention to him anymore, so he skipped towards Ushijima and took the darts from him to straighten them.

"I'll be your opponent, of course," he said. "And don't think I'll just let you win that easily. I can make you get laid in more ways than just one, so if you lose against me, you'll have to pay with something you wouldn't usually do."

"What's that?" asked Ushijima.

"Dance."

"Oh."

Oikawa smirked when he saw Ushijima's face drop. Of course he thought that Oikawa just wanted him to embarrass himself, but honestly - Ushijima didn't need any help for that. The truth was that Oikawa could make anyone look sexy by dancing with them - he just had that effect. Ushijima wouldn't have to do anything but stand there like a log and he'd still have loads of people lining up to proposition him after they saw him dance with Oikawa Tooru.

But first, they'd do it Ushijima's way.

"Do you know how to play?" Oikawa asked.

"The rules are written on this tiny plaque," Ushijima said.

Oikawa pushed three darts into Ushijima's hands with a frown. "Do you somehow suffer from a disability that keeps you from answering questions like a normal person?”

"I don't think a disability like that exists."

"Oh my God!" Oikawa opened his palm and waited for Ushijima to drop a few coins in it to waken the sleeping machine. It beeped and flashed for a while, then it displayed a welcome screen and asked them to choose a game.

"Two people, oh-one, starting from 401, does that sound alright?" Oikawa asked, already pushing the buttons.

"Sure."

"Good." Oikawa went back to the throwing line where Ushijima had positioned himself. "Well then, I'm curious. Show me what you've got."

Ushijima held the dart between two fingers, pushed one eye closed, concentrating for a few seconds before he suddenly catapulted the dart towards the board. The result was a 'pang' so loud it should not have been able to come from a single plastic dart. Ushijima probably could have killed someone with it, especially since it didn't land anywhere near the board. It took a few seconds until Oikawa realized there was no dart sticking out of the board and a bubble of laughter suddenly burst from his mouth.

"Holy _shit _, Ushiwaka!" he howled, holding his belly to emphasize the ridiculousness. "What the fuck was that?"__

__"I don't understand," said Ushijima. He was still looking at the board, as if the dart would materialize on it any second. "I used all the power I had."_ _

__"This is not about sheer power, it's about focus! Obviously a brute like you wouldn't understand." Oikawa gave a pronounced sigh as he took the remaining darts from Ushijima's hands. He enjoyed the moment more than he probably should – it wasn't every day that he got to lecture Ushijima in front of everyone._ _

__“Here...” Oikawa took Ushijima's left hand and pushed it open, so his palm pointed upwards. “You need to hold it like this!” Making sure that the dart was properly balanced, Oikawa rolled it up to Ushijima's fingertips and made him close his hand around it. “Firm, but flexible. You understand? And you need to throw from your wrist and elbow, not from the shoulder. You're not spiking a volleyball here, idiot!”_ _

__Ushijima's arm was oddly pliant to Oikawa's touch, bending to his will without resistance. “Like this – from the elbow, up and down. It's not that hard, really. Also, you don't need to use all of your power! Enough to make the dart stick to the board, not drill a hole into it. And watch your stance, you damn log!”_ _

__It was fun to arrange Ushijima like a poseable doll, mostly because Oikawa hadn't expected him to take critique, let alone be pushed around like this. “Left foot forward!” he ordered, kicking at Ushijima's left foot. “You need to lean all of your weight on it – the other foot is just for balance. Lean forward, come on!”_ _

__Ushijima did as he was told, and Oikawa focused on getting his arm in the right position again. Finally, he was satisfied with the result. “Yeah – just like this. Now, you throw!”_ _

__Nothing happened, except for the dart slowly slipping from Ushijima's weak grip on it, and Oikawa looked up only to notice that Ushijima was staring at him._ _

__“You need to watch the _board_!” he groaned. At least that finally woke Ushijima from his daze, and he was able to catch the dart right before it fell from his hand._ _

__“I...” he muttered, obviously at a loss for something to say. “I'm sorry. I'm just... I think I'm very drunk.”_ _

__Oikawa glared at him, trying his hardest to look pissed off, but he didn't manage for long. A laugh pushed itself out of his closed lips, and he bent over to hold his belly again. “Oh man!” he wheezed, clapping Ushijima's back. “So am I. So am I!”_ _

__Ushijima let the hand with the dart in it sink down to his side – he was obviously not going to throw it anytime soon, so Oikawa took it from him and pushed him out of the way with his hips._ _

__“I'll show you how it's done,” he said._ _

__Honestly, he was not the best dart player in the world, but at least he hit the board more times than not. He had chosen this game so Ushijima would win it. How should he have known that Ushijima had no talents outside of volleyball and being a pain in the ass?_ _

__Oikawa threw the darts one after the other, each of them sticking to the board – which was a feat in and of itself, seeing as the board was duplicating itself in front of his eyes. Also, he hadn't played darts in forever. Ushijima looked at him with real admiration, even though the final score was average at best, and Oikawa grinned as if he'd just won the world cup._ _

__“There – you see that?”_ _

__“I'm impressed,” said Ushijima, in a beautiful demonstration of his ability to be a pain in the ass. Couldn't he be a little bitter and plagued by an inferiority complex just once? But no, instead he looked at the board and said: “We messed up the rating system. But I would have lost either way, so I accept the punishment.”_ _

__“Huh?”_ _

__Oikawa had already forgotten about what he said would happen if Ushijima lost._ _

__“The dancing,” said Ushijima, turning to him with a somber expression. “I will do the dancing with you.”_ _

__“Oh!” said Oikawa – he had been ready to protest, because now that he knew how bad Ushijima was at playing darts, he was suddenly having a lot more fun with the game. However, there was one thing where the difference in their abilities was even greater, and Ushijima had just offered to let him show that to everyone. Plus, dancing was a lot easier to do when drunk than throwing pointy things in a room full of people._ _

__“Yeah... right! The dancing.” Oikawa couldn't keep the grin from his face, and he didn't try very hard either. “You're absolutely right. You're abysmal at this, so we might as well skip right to the fun part.”_ _

__Ushijima didn't protest when Oikawa took him by the arm to drag him out of the room. The ongoing game of darts they left behind was immediately taken over by some lurking nerds who were too ugly or too sober to get with someone this late into the night. Ushijima wasn't all too light on his feet while they were walking out of the room, so Oikawa doubted that his dancing would be anything but catastrophic. The alcohol probably played a part in Ushijima's elephantine movements, but his sober dancing shouldn't be much better to look at._ _

__He couldn't wait to get started._ _


	2. Chapter 2

“So tell me, Ushiwaka-chan – have you ever danced before?”

“I'm quite confident in my abilities, actually. I just don't like it very much.”

They weren't even halfway to the dance-floor yet, but Oikawa suddenly stopped in his tracks to look back at Ushijima.

“You're kidding!”

“I can show you, if you want,” Ushijima said, looking around. “Here is good – there are less people than on the dancefloor, so we have more space to move.”

The music reached them just fine, that was true – and they were pretty close to the booths, where Oikawa spotted Shirofuku with a phone camera aimed at him. They wouldn't disappear in the crowd here – everybody's eyes would be on them, everyone would have a clear shot.

Ushijima needed space to _move_!

Oikawa felt like he had prematurely entered heaven.

“Uhm... yeah, that's a great idea,” he said, eyes glowing. “You're absolutely right. We should dance. Right here. Right now.”

Cheap Thrills by Sia just came on, and Oikawa took a step back to give Ushijima some of the room he apparently needed, but Ushijima wouldn't have any of it – he followed, suddenly standing way too close, and before Oikawa knew what was going on, Ushijima had taken one of his hands and pressed the other to his side. 

Then Oikawa was spun around and his grip on reality faded a little.

“What the _fuck!_ ”, Oikawa yelled, because if he hadn't fallen into a coma from the alcohol just now, then he was actually ballroom dancing with Ushijima Wakatoshi to Sia's Cheap Thrills in the middle of a sea of cameras. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing,” was Ushijima's simple answer, as he swung Oikawa from side to side. He was just a little bit clumsy on his own feet, but he was a great lead, somehow, making Oikawa do steps he never fully agreed on with his own brain. “I took classes for my cousin's wedding last summer.”

“This is a night club!” Oikawa pointed out, but Ushijima just spun him around again, and suddenly, Oikawa was laughing. 

Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, maybe it was just the alcohol, or maybe this whole thing was actually _fun_. Oikawa didn't care anymore. He was having a great time – much greater than he could have imagined. Much greater than every other time he had spent in this club, getting cute guys and girls to buy him drinks, choosing one of his many admirers to sneak off into a corner not too dark for everyone around him to snap a few pictures, waking up the next morning to read the newest article on Oikawatch. The same old boring ritual, again and again. 

Oikawa had forgotten how much he loved destroying expectations.

So he danced. He waltzed through the club all the way through the song, and then the next one, and the next one, until he didn't know how many different rhythms they had tried to apply their dance steps to. Ushijima, it turns out, also knew the Foxtrot and Quickstep, and even though some of the songs were pretty awkward to dance to, they didn't stop.

There came a point when Oikawa couldn't see the cameras around them anymore. He couldn't even see the other people, he was too caught up in the music, and the dancing, and Ushijima's concentrated face that hadn't shown another expression ever since they'd started dancing. 

It was then that an idea came to him.

“Oh my God, you should lift me!” 

His voice sounded high and bright even in his own head – he was _excited_. Ushijima's movements were a bit stiff – he was obviously just following the exact steps he had learned during his lessons. But it was time for Oikawa to shake things up a little. 

“I'm not sure if I can,” Ushijima said, but Oikawa had already escaped from his grip to take a few steps back.

“Ready or not!” he yelled, and then he was running, and then he was leaping, and Ushijima's hands grabbed him around the middle, lifting him up. And then he was flying, shouting, laughing, toppling over Ushijima's shoulder, all in the same second, and he was still laughing when his face was pressed against the small of Ushijima's back while Ushijima fumbled to get a grip on him without falling down. 

“Did you just grab my ass in front of everyone?” 

It was only a joke, but he could practically feel Ushijima flush. Ushijima didn't realize it was a joke, even though Oikawa was still laughing – he simply couldn't stop it anymore.

“This calls for payback, you know?” Oikawa said, and then he grabbed Ushijima's ass, since it was already so conveniently located – he grabbed it good, probably too hard, because the alcohol had destroyed his ability to hold back. Ushijima yelped, then he jumped, and then let Oikawa fall sideways to the floor, where Oikawa just lay for a few seconds, trying not to puke from all the laughter that was trying to escape him still. 

“I'm sorry, Oikawa!” 

Ushijima appeared at his side in an instant, looking worried. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I'm fine,” Oikawa panted. He was out of breath from laughing and dancing, but he didn't feel like stopping yet. There were faces all around him, looking down at him – some of the faces were cameras, but he was used to that. Oikawa blended them out and concentrated on Ushijima's face. “You really suck at this,” he said.

“I told you. I never practiced this move.”

“How hard can it be for you and your stupidly muscular arms to lift me up?”

“It required more balance than I anticipated,” said Ushijima. He was offering Oikawa a hand to stand up, but he was bending down far enough for Oikawa to reach behind his head and pull himself up by Ushijima's neck. 

They were close, once they were both standing again. Close enough for Oikawa to notice that Ushijima was out of breath.

“Don't tell me you're tired,” he smirked, leaving his hand right where it was, while the free one circled Ushijima's middle automatically. He wasn't laughing anymore – his stomach couldn't take it. Ushijima must have felt the same, or maybe it was just another show of his annoying flawlessness that he noticed how everything had suddenly gone hazy for Oikawa. He wasn't spun around again – instead, Ushijima's arm circled around his middle, almost shy. What they were doing now was more similar to a school dance than ballroom dancing, but it was still entirely out of place for the fast beat in the background. Oikawa looked up through his lashes. “I thought your stamina was never-ending.”

“I'm not tired,” Ushijima said, a beat too late. “Just...”

“Drunk,” Oikawa offered helpfully.

“Yes. That.”

“That's fine,” said Oikawa. “I'm drunk, too.”

He could feel Ushijima's breath hitch when he leaned his forehead against Ushijima's shoulder, his nose buried into a soft spot above the collar bone. He hadn't lied about being drunk. They were spinning around, but it was a lot slower than it felt. If Ushijima hadn't kept him upright, he probably would have fallen right back to the floor. His mind was spinning, too. Spinning with weird possibilities, unthinkable possibilities, but he was not really thinking at all, so it was fine. 

Ushijima was saying something. His chest rumbled with the words. Oikawa listened with his lips, which were pressed against Ushijima's wet shirt, trying to absorb the vibrations. He thought he understood what they said. 

Come closer.

So he did.

Bodies pressed flush together, they spun and stumbled closer to the dancefloor, the gaps around them filling with people, ironically increasing their level of privacy. This part of the evening wasn't new anymore. This part, Oikawa had gone through a thousand times. Eyes closed, swaying out of rhythm, hot skin burning under his fingers. There was something comfortable about the familiarity, but still something exciting in the thought that he was doing this with Ushijima. 

_Ushijima_.

Hadn't he promised something a while back? Hadn't he promised to find a partner for him? 

Well. It would be impossible now. All the sad, lonely people wouldn't have made it to this point of the evening. But Oikawa wasn't in the business of breaking his promises.

He breathed hotly against the wet fabric under his lips, and Ushijima's hands slipped a little lower on his back. A new song came on – one of Oikawa's favorites. Even if he had wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to stop his hips from moving. 

Ushijima's chest rumbled again, and Oikawa lifted his second hand up to Ushijima's head as well. 

“This is how you dance in a night club,” he breathed, and then he circled his hips and the beat of the music ate him up. He was only vaguely aware of what Ushijima was doing – he seemed to be moving at least a little bit. Enough for Oikawa to work with. His body had already developed a will of its own, finally sending off his brain to a much needed vacation. 

This was where Oikawa felt _alive_.

“Oikawa...” 

Ushijima's voice was deep and rough, and Oikawa could feel every vibration of his own name on his skin. He closed his eyes again, tried to listen with his body, but Ushijima didn't say anything more. His hands slipped down even further – they were so close to Oikawa's ass, and Oikawa couldn't wait for them to grab it, push him up closer to the body before him, the way he was used to. 

But Ushijima, of course, never made things _easy_. 

It wasn't like Oikawa didn't enjoy taking the initiative. But he was a proud man, and he knew that he was irresistible, so he had established one rule for his conquests:

Oikawa would never kiss them first.

It didn't matter how shy they were, how insecure, how full of stupid expectations regarding gender-roles. At the end of the night, Oikawa always managed to make them lean in and take what he was dangling in front of their noses. He simply loved to tease. Unfortunately, teasing was not something Ushijima easily fell for. 

Ushijima's hands stayed glued to his lower back like he was made of stone, never promising to move deeper, and even when Oikawa lifted his head to look him in the eyes, Ushijima just stared back. At least his eyes were half-lidded, the caterpillars – for once – relaxed, mouth slightly open. He looked good, like this. Oikawa couldn't help but look at his lips. 

He needed to kiss Ushijima. 

There was just no other way. His body was screaming for it. It was everything he knew, an automatic reaction to the situation, a simple continuation of the Friday night story – the same one he wrote every week. Only this time, it was not just anyone, it was Ushijima Wakatoshi, and it had the potential to become Oikawa's masterpiece. 

The music still guided his hips, made them change direction from swinging left and right to moving back and forth. 

He was grinding against Ushijima while looking him straight in the eyes, and it was exciting, and filthy, and glorious. 

A sound slipped from between Ushijima's lips. Something broken, more like a moan than a word. Oikawa moved his hips again, trying to get more of the sound to break out of Ushijima's mouth, trying to make his hands slip down just a little deeper, trying, above all, to get a _reaction_.

And a reaction he got.

It was not the first time this evening that Oikawa was pressed up against Ushijima's hardness, but it was the first time he noticed how big it was, how absolutely impossible to hide. Ushijima was sweating, not breaking eye-contact, not even blinking, but it wasn't some kind of challenge, it was simply so he could understand Oikawa's thoughts, like he was trying to stare a hole into his skull and look right into his brain.

He wouldn't succeed of course, because Oikawa's brain was on vacation, and it was his body which decided to grind up against Ushijima's boner in the most suggestive way possible. 

“O- Oikawa!” Ushijima said, finally finding his words again, but he was unable to say anything else once more, so Oikawa didn't see it as a request to stop.

He moved up against Ushijima again, pulling his head down in the same move so he could whisper in Ushijima's ear.

“God, you want me so bad...”

Their cheeks were pressed together, Oikawa could feel strands of wet hair on his nose, his lips were brushing against Ushijima's ears as he talked, and he could feel the shudder going through Ushijima's body. It was almost too much. Oikawa could hear his own ragged breath resonate in his empty head, and he wanted to shudder, too. He needed Ushijima to kiss him, right now. Right now.

“I'm sorry,” was all Ushijima said. His hands gripped tighter, but they still wouldn't change position, and if Oikawa didn't know better, he would have believed that Ushijima was trying to turn the tables and tease him, tease him to the breaking point. Oikawa ground up against Ushijima's crotch once more, just to establish that he was the one with all the aces in his hands, and Ushijima rewarded him with a long, delicious moan. 

“What are you sorry for?” Oikawa asked, making sure to arch his neck so that it was presented before Ushijima's lips. All he had to do was lean in and press together the last bits of skin that weren't touching yet. But all Oikawa could feel brushing up against his neck was Ushijima's hot breath, and it drove him crazy.

“I...” Ushijima groaned when Oikawa moved against him. “I drank too much alcohol... My control is...”

“Fuck that,” Oikawa interrupted him, burying one hand in Ushijima's hair, the sweat making it smoother than it usually looked. “Let go of your control.”

“No, I.... that would be bad.”

Of course it would be next to impossible to get Ushijima to lose control, what else did Oikawa expect? He moved his head back, so that he wasn't pressed against Ushijima's cheek anymore, and was instead looking straight at him. Ushijima, for once, wasn't looking back. His eyes were glued to Oikawa's lips, so close to his own now. So close that he could barely breathe without touching them. 

Oikawa waited. He moved his body to the music and he kept his face as intimately close to Ushijima's as he could without touching, and he waited.

He could break Ushijima. He knew it. All it took was patience. 

Oikawa had patience, surely.

Just not enough. 

As was bound to happen sooner or later whenever Oikawa was exposed to Ushiwaka's stupidity for too long, anger flooded through him.

How was it possible for a human being to be so _dense_? How was it possible to fuck up even this, to make Oikawa angry even when his brain was absent, when he was floating in the clouds, when he was happy and horny and drunk?

Oikawa had enough. He couldn't stand being this close to Ushijima for another second, so he pushed him away. Ushijima was barely moving, even though he was swaying on his feet, and it made Oikawa even angrier.

"You know what? If you're that disgusted by me, you can fuck right off," he spat.

Ushijima just looked at him, confused.

"I'm sorry," he repeated for the umpteenth time. "I thought... you said you'd never want to kiss me."

Great - yet more of that disgusting flawlessness. Oikawa almost wished he had to puke, because he would have liked to do it now, just to make a point. How goddamn perfect of Ushijima, to hold himself back even when he was drunk, just because of something stupid Oikawa had said earlier. How goddamn noble.

Oikawa pushed him again, this time actually managing to make him take a step back.

"It's funny how you think you can get points for listening to me, yet you're not listening to my body at all!"

Ushijima blinked, still confused.

"So... you want to kiss me?"

"Of course not, have you seen me? I could have anyone in this room, so why would I want to kiss the biggest oaf in it?"

Oikawa waited for exactly three seconds before he turned around to walk away.

Well, more like stumble away.

Well. More not anything away at all, because there was a hand on his elbow, tugging at him and making him turn right back around, just like before, when they were dancing. Ushijima knew exactly how to make Oikawa move in the way he wanted. It was infuriating. Oikawa stumbled right back into Ushijima's arms - a strong hand braced his shoulder so he wouldn't fall, and before Oikawa could protest, Ushijima's mouth was on his.

Somehow, the anger made it better.

His head had been empty before, weightless and dumb, like it usually was when he finally got to the kissing stage of the evening. But now - now it was filled with something. Something like passion. Ushijima held him by his shoulders, pressing his arms uselessly to his sides, so Oikawa couldn't do much but stand there like an idiot and take it. 

Ushijima, as always, was an annoyingly perfect kisser – his teeth stayed right where they belonged, he didn't just try to push his tongue down Oikawa's throat like so many others; even his lips were soft and smooth. It made Oikawa's head spin. Ushijima pulled at his bottom lip, threatening to break the kiss, then leaned in to do it again, and Oikawa knew that he had to do something about that, lest he'd melt right into Ushijima's arms. 

He somehow managed to shake Ushijima's hands off, making him pull back with a silent, questioning look. To an outsider, there was probably nothing wrong with his face, but Oikawa could tell that he looked guilty, like he still wasn't sure he hadn't just done something Oikawa didn't want. 

Surely, he was right, if they were talking about sober Oikawa. But sober Oikawa was long gone – besides, he was the one who had made the decision to let drunk Oikawa roam the streets, so it was all his fault, really.

“You know,” Oikawa said, hating how breathless he sounded. “I said you should listen to my body – how is my body saying it wants to kiss you when it's walking away from you?”

Ushijima's mouth opened without a sound – it was red from kissing, his face flushed. He looked less than composed, which was to say, delicious. 

Oikawa pressed his eyes closed for a moment, because even though he was drunk, he still couldn't deal with the fact that Ushijima looked _hot_.

“It's good to know that you still don't understand at all,” Oikawa said, opening his eyes again. He was suddenly dizzy, so he hugged Ushijima's head to brace himself. “You're cute when you're confused.”

He really hoped he didn't say that out loud, but it didn't actually matter, because he was already kissing Ushijima. Slowly, this time – because in the end, Ushijima should know that this was fine. This was exactly where the evening should have led to. This was a story that would go down in history, and Oikawa lived for those kinds of stories. 

Ushijima's arms finally embraced Oikawa's body, pulling him closer, showing him that he was still as hard as before, and Oikawa couldn't help but moan into the kiss a little. It always felt nice to be so wanted. It had felt nice even before, when they had sat in the booth, and Oikawa had finally realized that Ushijima was into him.

In retrospect, it was stupid to not have noticed. The way Ushijima held him now, like he never wanted to let go, the way his caterpillar eyebrows were scrunched in total concentration, trying to commit every single second to his memory, the way his breath brushed ragged over Oikawa's lips. All this time Oikawa had thought he was beneath Ushijima, and yet, _he_ had been the unobtainable thing, the one prize Ushijima could never win. It made Oikawa feel powerful.

He let his body move with the music again, rocking against Ushijima in hope for more of those delicious broken sounds passing between their mouths. Time flew by outside of them. Song after song came on, until there were no more songs, and they stumbled out of the room, never going too long without their lips pressed together, hands on each other as if they would lose themselves if they let go. 

They found themselves in the couch room, where they had tried to play darts before. Most of the couches were empty now, and Oikawa somehow led them towards the most comfortable one, blindly, out of memory. 

The couch made a protesting noise when Ushijima heavily fell into it, looking up to Oikawa with lidded eyes. Oikawa chuckled at the picture. Ushijima was so far gone – they were both so far gone, and this was all such a deliciously bad idea. Oikawa loved it.

“You know what would feel good?” Oikawa asked, making no move to join Ushijima on the couch. He liked standing here and looking down at him, liked to see those begging eyes, the obvious bulge in his pants. Oikawa licked his lips, a shudder going down his spine. “Walking away,” he said. 

Ushijima's expression didn't change. 

“Will you?” he asked.

For a moment, Oikawa actually considered it. Even now, he was aware of cameras pointing in their direction – there were always eyes on him, especially in this club. How good would it feel to show everyone that he was the superior one, the one who walked away from Ushijima in the middle of a club, sitting there with a clearly visible boner. He knew that Ushijima wouldn't beg, he didn't even need to hope for it, but it was an enticing idea nonetheless. 

In the end, however, his body moved out of its own free will, and it was not away, it was down into Ushijima's lap, straddling him for everyone to see. 

“I guess not,” Oikawa said, and then they were kissing again, Ushijima's hands roaming over Oikawa's body like they didn't know where to touch first. Oikawa could feel his bulge against his ass, and he couldn't help but rock his body forward. “If we weren't in public,” Oikawa said, breathless. “I would fuck you.”

Ushijima's moan almost sounded like a whine, if whining was something Ushijima would ever do. Still, it was close enough to do things to Oikawa.

“Maybe I don't even care,” he said, just to keep the sounds coming. “Maybe we should just do it, right here, with the possibilities of cameras pointed at us.”

He wondered if it was possible to make Ushijima come in his pants. That would be amazing. The thought alone made Oikawa shudder. Ushijima pulled him closer by the thighs, and the friction almost killed Oikawa.

It felt so good that it took four and a half calls for Oikawa to notice that it was his phone vibrating in his pants all along.

He managed to tear one hand away from Ushijima's chest to dig the phone out of his pocket. His vision was blurry, but he was pretty sure he read Iwaizumi's name on the caller ID.

"You almost gave me a boner," Oikawa said, because Iwaizumi was his best friend and didn't need a filter.

Iwaizumi didn't even breathe before he started spewing death threats. "I swear I'm gonna murder you."

"Just kidding. I already had a boner."

"Oikawa. Listen to me!" Iwaizumi sounded strangely serious, but it was hard to concentrate on the call when Ushijima's mouth sucked on Oikawa's ear. "And stop moaning into the phone, that's disgusting."

Oikawa gave a pronounced moan just to be difficult.

"Get away from Ushiwaka, do you hear me? As your best friend, I have a responsibility to keep you from doing stuff that will make you jump from the next bridge when morning comes. And this is definitely the stupidest thing you have ever, _ever_ done!"

Oh, wow. So there were already pictures on Oikawatch. Oikawa hoped he looked good in them.

"You're wrong," he said - mumbled, because Ushijima kissed him on the mouth and pulled at his bottom lip and Oikawa wasn’t strong enough to push him away. Mentally _and_ physically. "I'm still doing the stupid thing, so I haven't 'done' anything at all."

“Congratulations, this is a new low,” Iwaizumi said as Ushijima moved on to kiss a line along Oikawa’s jaw.

“Yet I've never felt so high,” Oikawa sighed into his phone, sneaking his free hand beneath Ushijima’s shirt to draw his fingers along the warm skin there. “God, Iwa-chan… he has abs of steel. I swear, if you could see him-“

“I _can_ see him, Oikawa! You’re being live-broadcast on that crazy stalker-site!”

“Oh!”

Oikawa turned to look around at the sparse group of people left behind, just so he could wink into the camera, but his vision was too blurry, and he almost lost his balance turning away from Ushijima, so he simply leaned against Ushijima’s chest, chin propped up on his shoulder, letting him bury his nose in Oikawa’s hair. This was comfortable. He could stay forever like this.

“This is all your fault, Iwa-chan,” he mumbled into the phone. “What other choice do I have but to do the most stupid thing imaginable when you’re not here to stop me? You know I have no self-control.”

“Then go get some, asshole!”

“Nah, I like feeling good,” Oikawa sighed, mouth pressed against Ushijima’s skin. “And it feels so good… so, so… oh!”

Ushijima was sucking on Oikawa’s earlobe again, this time mixing in a bit of teeth, and Oikawa couldn’t help the shudder running down his spine, no matter how real Iwaizumi’s gag sounded.

“I need to hang up now, or I’m gonna puke,” Iwaizumi announced. “Just so you know, I won’t listen to your whining when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Yes you will,” Oikawa said.

“Fuck you.”

“I love you, too.”

Oikawa ended the call before Iwaizumi did, because he knew that Iwaizumi wasn’t actually done yet and would probably spend another half hour chewing him out for choosing Ushijima, of all people, as his Friday night conquest. That's why he wasn't surprised when the phone started vibrating again, five seconds after he had hung up. After a closer look, however, Oikawa realized that it was not Iwaizumi calling back, it was Hanamaki.

“Bad time,” Oikawa said, answering nonetheless. To be honest, it felt pretty good to have Ushijima lick and nibble and suck at him while Oikawa wasn't even paying attention to him. It had to look great on the cameras. 

“WHAT UP!” Hanamaki yelled, already in the middle of a laughing fit. “YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING!”

Oikawa gave a long hum when Ushijima drew his hands along his sides, rocking up as if to try and get Oikawa's attention back. On the phone, Hanamaki's laughing fit turned into a fake-disgusted spluttering. 

“You know Iwaizumi is gonna kill you, right?” he said gleefully. “I think I heard him rip off his shower curtain from four dorms over.”

“So you know that I'm busy dry-fucking a guy with a body like a marble statue and you still decide to interrupt?” Oikawa seriously considered taking off Ushijima's shirt just so everyone could see what was hiding underneath, because what Oikawa found there was... fuck. No one would judge him anymore if they knew. Hell, he probably wouldn't judge himself tomorrow, if he remembered the exact feel of it.

“It's _Ushiwaka_!” Hanamaki reminded him, although he didn't say it in a way that intended to get Oikawa back to his senses, more like he was having the best time of his life. “It's not just a guy with a bod, it's freaking _Ushiwaka_!”

“Did you know that his hair is like... really soft?” Oikawa mumbled. He didn't really know what he was saying anymore – his face was pressed into the crook of Ushijima's neck, and he drew his teeth along the skin there as he spoke. He could feel Ushijima's chest push against him when he took a deep, shuddering breath. Then Ushijima's mouth was somehow on his, tongue licking inside, and Oikawa let the phone sink down to his side, forgotten. 

It vibrated again shortly after. Again and again and again. Oikawa was too busy sucking on Ushijima's tongue to be on the phone, but he still took each call and listened with half an ear to what his friends were screaming at him. It was kinda fun, he had to admit.

First was Matsukawa, congratulating him and promising to buy him an 'I'm with stupid'-shirt when they next saw each other. 

Next was Shirofuku, threatening to practice every sailor's knot on his balls if he dared to hurt Ushijima. 

After that came Terushima, who was obviously too drunk to even hold his phone – he was just cursing, so Oikawa didn't even know if he meant it in a good or in a bad way, and halfway through, he let his phone fall to the floor, ending the call. 

Then Yahaba called, screaming.

“OIKAWA!”

Oikawa didn't reply, because he hadn't replied to anyone for a while now, and they seemed to be fine with it, but Yahaba listened to the wet sucking noises through the phone and went: “Ew! What the fuck are you doing?”

Oikawa managed to pry his mouth away from Ushijima's long enough to form an answer.

“Um, the thing you called to scream about, I guess?”

Ushijima seemed content enough mouthing at Oikawa's throat, so Oikawa saved one or two brain cells to listen to Yahaba, who sounded confused.

“You're doing Futakuchi?”

Oikawa looked down at the brown head of hair latched to his throat, and he buried one hand in the hair to tug at it and look at Ushijima's face. The fat caterpillars were the first thing to greet him, followed by a greedy mouth pressing back against his lips. 

“Ah, no...” Oikawa managed between kisses. “No, I don't think so.”

“Then I guess I don't want to know.”

Oikawa didn't grace that one with a reply, because it was foolish anyway – Oikawa was a guy whose life was interesting enough to have a whole website dedicated to it. He was practically famous. So what he was doing right now was something Yahaba would definitely want to know, if he knew what it was.

“Anyway, what did you say to Futakuchi?”

“Hm?” was all Oikawa managed through the press of Ushijima's tongue against his lips.

“He showed up here, earlier, begging me to be his boyfriend. Said you opened his eyes or something.”

It took a lot of willpower to pull away from Ushijima again, but Yahaba was one of the only people Oikawa could muster it for. 

“Hmmm, let me think,” he said, offering Ushijima his ear instead of his mouth. Ushijima took the bait unthinkingly, and Oikawa had to stop himself from moaning into the phone again. Who would have known Ushijima would be so good with his tongue? “First, I kissed him, then I told him I'd kick his ass to the moon, then I... I think I suggested he use some dirty apps? I'm not sure, it's all a bit fuzzy.”

“You're kidding!” Yahaba said, but it didn't sound like he was angry. Not that Oikawa was in a state to tell if someone was angry or not. “You kissed him? In front of everyone?”

“He acted as if he didn't like it. Crazy, huh?”

“I wouldn't know.”

“Which is a shame,” Oikawa said, grinning. “Even Ushiwaka knows.”

It took a few seconds for Yahaba to understand what Oikawa was getting at. Then a few more seconds for him to sit down at his computer and verify his suspicions on Oikawatch. Finally, a screech.

“That is _sick_!”

Oikawa chuckled, partly because it was fun to freak Yahaba out like that, partly because Ushijima's hair tickled at his collar bone. 

“You're not trying to break his heart, are you?”

Oikawa looked down to where Ushijima had moved, pressing kisses against every piece of skin the collar of Oikawa's shirt allowed him to meet. Oikawa thoughtfully brushed a hand through his hair. 

“Maybe I am,” he said, rocking against Ushijima's erection just to hear that moan again. “Probably I am.”

“He doesn't deserve it. And neither do you.”

“No, I pretty much deserve everything I'm getting,” Oikawa said, shrugging. “I'm an asshole, after all.”

“Most of all, you're drunk. It's pretty late. You should go home.”

“Yeah, I should,” said Oikawa. 

But he didn't.

He didn't for a long while.

They were among the last people to leave the club, the sun already threatening to break from behind the faculty buildings on the other side of the campus. Ushijima was pale and sweaty and stumbling over his own two feet, but he was still the one to support Oikawa's weak body. 

Out here, in the dim morning light, the world felt just a little bit too real.

“I'll walk you home,” Ushijima said. His voice was hoarse, but it was still unmistakably his voice, and Oikawa suddenly wished he wouldn't talk at all. 

He was way too sober for this. Actually, he was pretty sure that he'd been sober for the last hour or so, and had only continued making out with Ushijima because he was too exhausted to properly face the facts.

The facts being that he had spent the whole night dry-humping _Ushiwaka_. 

Oikawa wished he could just collapse right here and now, but it would do no good, because Ushijima would probably carry him home princess-style or something, and all he wanted right now was for him to go away.

“I don't need you to walk me home, I'm not a fourteen year old girl,” Oikawa spat.

“You can barely walk,” said Ushijima. 

It was true, but only because Oikawa hadn't mustered up the energy for it yet. All he needed was to breathe in and get his act together. It was just so much _easier_ to shuffle and wobble and lean against a strong body. 

“Go away!” he barked, pushing himself out of Ushijima's arms. He didn't fall down immediately, which was a good sign. “God, you're so clingy! What, you think you're my boyfriend now? Don't think you're special just because I took pity on you!”

Ushijima's face didn't change at all, but somehow he still managed to look like Oikawa had kicked him in the guts. With the pale face, the bloodshot eyes and the tousled hair, he was not exactly Mister Perfect anymore. 

“I see,” was all he said. 

Oikawa turned around so he didn't have to look at Ushijima any longer. When he started to walk, he could tell that Ushijima wasn't following him, even though he didn't turn to check. There was some kind of presence missing at his back, a supportive hand, ready to catch him if he fell. 

But it was alright. Oikawa didn't need it anyway. 

His dorm building wasn't too far away. Somehow, he managed to walk himself back without stumbling and falling down a ditch on the way there. The stairs were made out of pure pain and torture. But even that, he stood through, and after what felt like hours, he finally fell into his bed.

_Alone_.

Oikawa never slept long into the day. His inner clock woke him up only two hours later, when the sun had finally found its way onto the open sky, and burned through Oikawa's closed eyelids.

He wanted to die.

Maybe he cried a little in the shower, but it was less about feeling bad and more about his particular brand of drama. He refused to think about what he had done last night and tried to concentrate on his pounding head. First, he drank a whole bottle of water, then two cups of coffee, then he ate dry cornflakes right out of the package.

Then he called Iwaizumi.

"Iwa-chan!" he whined, letting himself fall back onto the bed and kicking out the sheets with his feet because they smelled. "What have I done?"

"I told you so," Iwaizumi grunted, obviously still asleep. For once, he kept his promise of not listening to Oikawa whine the next morning, because all Oikawa heard after that was a snore. It wasn't even fake.

"You shouldn't have stayed up so long just to yell at me over the phone!" Oikawa scolded. It didn't wake Iwaizumi back up, so he threw the phone away into the sheets on the floor.

He really wanted to call Kuroo and Bokuto and scream at them. This was all their fault for letting him go to the club already drunk. But he knew that those two would sleep until late in the afternoon and that nothing could wake them before that.

His laptop stared at him from his bedside table and Oikawa could feel bile rise up in his throat.

There was something he was very, very afraid of checking out.

“Please, let this all just be a dream,” he whispered to himself as he rolled over the bed and opened the laptop. He really didn’t want to see any pictures of himself with Ushijima. The memory of it was bad enough. Oikawa remembered his boner and almost died from embarrassment. Hopefully, the pictures were all dark and blurry.

Oikawatch opened with a brand new headline. The word “sensation” blinked at him in a way that was probably not safe for epileptics. It was then that Oikawa knew he was dead.

“Well fuck me sideways,” he mumbled to himself, suddenly unable to tear his eyes away. 

Oikawatch's admins had really outdone themselves with this one. There was a whole photo-story from the beginning of the evening until the very end. There were videos, whole pages of comments from fans, an info-page about Ushiwaka for those who didn't know him yet. 

For a moment, Oikawa was almost gleeful about Ushijima Wakatoshi needing an info-page, but the glee subsided quickly enough when Oikawa clicked through the photo-story.

He was _such_ an idiot. 

Because this didn't look like one of his normal Friday night hook-ups. He usually picked someone up on the dance-floor, made out with them for a couple hours, then went home. But with Ushijima, he had spent the _whole night_. First, there were pictures of them sitting snuggled up to each other in that damned booth, then pictures of when they went to get drinks – always touching in some way, Oikawa stealing sip after sip from Ushijima's cocktail. After that came the moment when Oikawa sat on Ushijima's lap, back in the booth – then the one where he'd turned around to straddle him, leaning in to whisper in his ear. 

It all looked so intimate. And the way the Oikawatch admins had managed to place each picture told a very different story to what had actually happened. Not that Oikawa was too clear on the details of what had actually happened, but he was pretty sure he never went to buy Ushijima a cocktail. That's just not something he would do, no matter how drunk he was.

Yet there were pictures of him, returning from the bar with two cocktails in his hands, offering one to Ushijima.

Even worse, the following picture had them playing darts, Oikawa's hands all over Ushijima as he tried to show him a good throwing position, just like those annoying guys who went to play golf with girls just so they could press up behind them, acting like they knew how to swing a club. 

Oikawa really wanted to stop looking, but this was something akin to a car crash, where you just couldn't tear your eyes away. 

After playing darts, they had danced with each other. Oikawa actually remembered that one well. Most of all, he remembered because it had been so much _fun_ , which was bad enough, but even worse was the fact that the pictures showed exactly how Oikawa felt during the dance. He was beaming the whole time, eyes shining so bright, he kinda hoped there were lasers coming out of them in the next picture, turning Ushijima's ridiculously handsome face to dust. 

Not once in his life had Oikawa thought that Ushijima Wakatoshi was handsome. And yet, when he looked at these pictures, the strong jawline, the pronounced eyebrows, the ruffled hair – he couldn't deny it. He suddenly knew what all the other people saw. He suddenly knew what the pages full of comments would say. Because there was no doubt about it.

They looked so, so good with each other.

Both of them were people who easily stood out from the crowd. Both of them were pretty well known across campus. They were both tall and good-looking (one more so than the other), they were – and Oikawatch was spot-on there - a sensation.

Oikawa couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before it was too late.

His phone rang – probably Iwaizumi calling him back, but Oikawa couldn’t pick up right now. He was too caught up in the pictures, looking at himself and Ushijima, like an A-list Hollywood couple. The Brangelina of campus.

Despite knowing better, he clicked to the next picture. There were a few more of them on the dance-floor. First when they were ballroom-dancing like two idiots, but they somehow made it look cool. Only when he looked at the photos did he see that some people in the background had imitated them.

Fuck – they were already creating _trends_! Oikawa didn’t know how to feel about that. The problem was that he was a sucker for attention. And this would all be very wonderful if it wasn’t Ushijima of all people. Goddammit!

The next picture showed Oikawa running up towards Ushijima, and the next one, Ushijima perfectly holding him up by the waist while Oikawa’s arms were stretched out and he was laughing like he was having the time of his life. Oikawa remembered that they hadn’t held this pose for even one second, and yet someone had managed to snatch a picture of it, making it look oh-so perfect. Like they were meant to be.

Oikawa felt like puking out the dry cornflakes he had eaten earlier.

At least they hadn’t left out the part when Oikawa collapsed over Ushijima’s shoulder – Oikawa’s ass was the center of the next picture, sticking up in the air, but it looked to be in good shape, so it was alright. In the following picture, he was lying on the floor, one arm spread over his eyes, hiding his face from the cameras.

After that, at least the annoyingly bright smile that had stuck to Oikawa’s face in every picture was replaced by a drunken bedroom-look. Good – at least it was clear how drunk he was when he finally made out with Ushijima. The moment came closer and closer anyway – Oikawa wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to see it – probably not, but he still kept clicking through the pictures. After falling to the floor, Ushijima had helped him up, and they had finally stopped the ballroom-dancing madness. Oikawa didn’t know if he liked the slow dancing any better. There were more people around them now, but the pictures still captured all the unnecessary _touching_ and _grinding_ .

Maybe Oikawa could just roll himself up in his stinking sheets and never leave his dorm again.

But still, he clicked to the next picture.

This one wasn’t actually a picture at all. It seemed to be a gif. Oikawa watched in quiet horror – watched himself turn away from Ushijima, watched himself take two steps only to be swirled back around by the elbow, Ushijima bowing his head down in a kiss. He watched himself melt into the kiss, fingers constricting, longing to hold onto something, but his arms were pressed to his sides in Ushijima’s strong grip.

They kissed like this was a movie scene. There were people clapping all around them, but he had never even heard. Somewhere in the crowd, a girl literally swooned.

What the ever-loving fuck!

The phone rang again from out of the sheets and this time Oikawa actually went to pick it up, screaming, “My life is over!” before Iwaizumi could even say anything.

“I thought you jumped out of your window!” Iwaizumi barked, worry clear in his voice.

“Not yet, I haven’t gotten past the first kiss yet,” Oikawa said, jumping back down onto his bed to anxiously click to the next picture.

It was just them kissing again.

There was a whole gallery of pictures with them kissing. They must have done this for _hours_.

“Have you read the comments?” Iwaizumi asked, obviously calmed by Oikawa’s gagging sounds. “Looks like Ushijima is your big breakthrough.”

“Don’t you even dare!”

“I’m just saying. There are edits of the two of you where you’re walking over campus, holding hands. Kissing in front of sunsets. Actually, I think I even saw a video to the song ‘Everytime We Touch’.”

Now Oikawa was actually thinking about jumping out of the window.

“Couldn’t they at least use a less cliché song?”

“I’m more surprised about how quickly this escalated,” Iwaizumi said, sounding almost impressed. “Doesn’t it take time to make a video like that? Did they stay up the whole night just to be the first one to post it? Your fans really are crazy.”

Oikawa gave a long groan, falling back onto the mattress to stare a hole into his ceiling. He was done looking at the pictures. They would be edged into his brain forever.

“Just so you know, you’ll probably have a whole bunch of crazy people coming after you once you turn Ushijima down to make out with someone else next Friday.”

Oikawa hadn’t even thought about that yet.

“But making out with random people was my whole thing!” he whined. “The Oikawatch admins even invented the Toorubears as trophies for the lucky people I chose!”

“I really wanna vomit.”

“They can’t just demand I change my whole persona!”

“Maybe they’re so excited because they thought to have finally caught a glimpse of the real you,” Iwaizumi suggested. “You changed up your routine quite a bit.”

“Yes, because it was _Ushiwaka!_ \- I never planned on making out with him! I was just too drunk and I got confused!”

“Tell that to Cascada,” said Iwaizumi. “Hey, the picture where he lifts you up lines up with the lyrics ‘I swear I could fly’ – this is a real masterpiece!”

“I hate you so much.”

“I can’t really do anything but gloat and say ‘I told you so’ when I’m not there, so that’s what you get for being an idiot.”

“Reminding me that this is all your fault for not being here.”

“You should go look for friends with some actual decency, instead of ones who support this kind of behavior,” said Iwaizumi, suddenly serious. “Maybe now that you’re famous I could do a casting show to find you a chaperon.”

“Ushijima would probably win it,” Oikawa said darkly, making Iwaizumi laugh again.

“I guess he’s not that bad a choice for a boyfriend, but you don’t deserve him anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Alright then, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Still sounds like a dig at me!”

“Because it is,” said Iwaizumi. “Anyway, now that I know you’re not trying to kill yourself, why don’t you go for a run and clear your head out. I actually need to study here, you know?”

“Right, right – goody-two-shoes Iwa-chan, who never has time to talk to his best friend because he needs to _study_ so hard. You should try having fun just once in your life, you know?” Oikawa chided, slamming his laptop shut. Iwaizumi really was a hopeless case, but at least going for a run didn't sound like such a bad idea. 

“Maybe I'm not studying at all, maybe I have an affair,” Iwaizumi said, sounding offended when Oikawa just snorted.

“Love you, Iwa-chan. Don't explode your brain.”

“Maybe I'll explode something else?”

“Stop being ridiculous, it doesn't suit you at all. Bye bye now,” Oikawa said, making kissing sounds into the phone before he hung up. 

Almost getting tangled up in the sheets he had kicked to the floor, he went to fill another bottle with water and to look for a clean pair of shorts to run. His dorm was a mess, but you wouldn't think so when you saw him on the street. He always looked impeccable. 

There was a pair of blue shorts hanging from his table lamp, and it looked like it didn't have any stains on it, so Oikawa ironed it with his hair straightener before putting it on. Grabbing his phone and a pair of earphones, he left the dorm, greedy for some fresh air to enter his lungs. 

The campus lay empty before him when he stepped out into the open. College had not improved his sleeping schedule, even after a night as long as this one. He would probably collapse sometime in the early afternoon and sleep the day away. Now, however, he was the only one awake. It wasn't even that early – around 8 o'clock, maybe, but it was a Saturday, and every person on campus was either recovering from a drunk night out, or taking a much needed break from studying.

He did some warm-up in the shadow of a tree outside of his dorm-building, trying to get his tired bones into gear.

One side of his earphones didn't work when he put them in – so he had accidentally grabbed the wonky pair. Oh well, it only fit the start of his day so far. With half an ear full of music, he started to jog lightly, testing out how much his stomach could take. The water had helped a lot, so it didn't take long for him to reach his usual speed. Since there were no other people out, he might as well take a detour to the little pond off to the side of the campus. Usually, there were too many other joggers out there to run freely. Oikawa loved having as many eyes on him as possible, but when he ran, he didn't need any obstacles or interruptions. Besides, it didn't matter where he went, there would always be someone with a camera, ready to send the pictures to Oikawatch.

This time, though, he ran in total peace. It didn't take long for him to feel better. The thing with Ushiwaka was awkward, but Oikawa could deal with a little scandal here and there. Maybe this was just the next logical step on his rise to fame. 

He never stopped to consider Ushijima's feelings, because firstly, they were still new to him, and secondly, he could be really selfish sometimes. Everyone needed their flaws, after all, and Oikawa already had so little. 

_Feelings_. The word was ridiculous anyway. It probably wasn't possible for Ushijima to have feelings at all. Even when they lost an important game, Ushijima just accepted it, never sharing the dejection of the rest of the team. His facial expression was never changing. You had to measure the position of his caterpillar eyebrows with a tapeline to interpret what was going on in his head. 

The alcohol last night had loosened him up a little, and even then, an outsider probably wouldn't have guessed what he was thinking. There had been only one moment, when Oikawa had rejected him at the end of the night, that his frustration was clear. 

So basically, to get a reaction out of Ushijima, you had to get him drunk, tire him out completely, and break his heart all at the same time. Oikawa wondered if it was worth taking a mental note of this. 

He ended up thinking about last night all the way around the pond, and at the end, he even thought he heard Ushijima's voice calling his name. 

It took a few seconds until Oikawa noticed that the voice calling for him was real. The broken earphones weren't able to blend it out completely, which gave Oikawa a convenient warning of incoming Ushijima. 

_Of course_ he had to be the only other idiot who was out here running on a Saturday morning. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

“Oikawa!” Ushijima yelled across the pond, so loud that Oikawa would have probably heard it even with fully working earphones. Was he trying to wake up the whole campus? Oikawa sped up a little, knowing that he had no chance against Ushijima – then again Ushijima wasn't used to getting so little sleep and having an acid stomach after a night full of drinking. Maybe he could outrun him and act like he'd never even heard him calling.

It was a bad plan. He could practically feel Ushijima gain on him as he turned into a little pathway leading away from the pond. It was too late to hide behind a tree – Ushijima had a clear view of him. Oikawa had no choice but to speed up, probably breaking his personal record in the process. He sincerely hoped that there were no people around who could see Ushijima chasing him across the whole campus. That would be pretty embarrassing. At least Oikawatch would have a field day with it.

“Oikawa!” he heard Ushijima call again. “Please wait! I need to talk to you!”

“Nope,” Oikawa whispered to himself, sidestepping into yet another small path. He was starting to run out of stamina, but he'd rather pass out from lack of air than face Ushijima right now. If he didn't control his thoughts for one second, he could still feel Ushijima's boner press against his ass, and that was just something he was not ready to handle just yet. He ran even faster. 

“Oikawa! Can you hear me?”

“The whole campus can hear you, idiot!” Oikawa groaned- Ushijima sounded way too close. Oikawa thought he could already feel him breathing down his neck. 

The very second before Ushijima reached him, Oikawa saw no other way out than to duck. He tried to go for a feint where he re-tied his shoe, but thought better of it when he saw Ushijima shoot past him and come to a halt only three steps further down the road. Oikawa shot up from his position and ran away in the other direction. Ushijima had to get tired sooner or later. Even though all the signs pointed to the opposite, Oikawa was sure that Ushijima was just a human being. He was too uncool to be an alien. 

“Oikawa!”

That came from right behind him, closer than Oikawa would have guessed.

Maybe not so human after all. 

A hand locked around his upper arm, bringing him to a sudden halt, and Oikawa had no choice but to turn around and look at Ushijima. At least he seemed to be out of breath, too. Not even close to how Oikawa felt, though. He was doubling over, wheezing, his lungs on fire. At least the shoes were the only part of Ushijima he had to look at from this position. 

“Oh, hello, Ushiwaka-chan!” he panted, once his lungs had filled with enough air to press out words. He pointedly reached up to his ear to remove an earphone. “Sorry, were you calling me? I was listening to music.”

“I see,” said Ushijima, his brows scrunching up in that clueless but serious expression he so often wore. 

Oikawa could only blink at how easily Ushijima bought the lie. Oikawa had literally ducked under his outstretched hand and ran away in the opposite direction, and Ushijima was just going to say 'I see'? 

That was _ridiculous_. 

Oikawa was way too breathless to laugh, but a giggle blubbered out of him anyway. He pushed a hand against his mouth as if to take it back. 

He was _not_ going to be charmed by this. What the hell?

“I'm sorry for interrupting your morning run,” Ushijima continued, still with the same earnest expression, and there was another giggle forming in Oikawa's throat. What the fuck was going on? Oikawa thought that he would puke on Ushijima's shoes the next time he saw him, but somehow, the nausea just didn't come. 

Instead, Ushijima looked almost... cute?

Okay, it was really time for the nausea to kick in now. Oikawa watched with wide eyes as Ushijima opened his mouth again, probably to say some more stupidly charming things, and that was just something Oikawa couldn't let happen. 

He was probably still drunk from last night. There was no other explanation for his actions. But before Oikawa could stop himself, he had taken a step forward and pressed his lips against Ushijima's. 

Later, he had a thousand excuses for it. He was just trying to mute the stupid oaf, to keep him from talking about last night. He was just trying to please his fans who were so obsessed with them being a couple. He was just trying to hurt Ushijima, because he was an asshole like that. But the truth was that he wasn't thinking at all – the lack of air had made his brain short-circuit and in the second he had no control over himself, he decided that he wanted to kiss Ushijima. 

It was better than he would have imagined, had he ever imagined kissing Ushijima. 

Even though the feeling should still have been fresh in his memory, the touch of those unexpectedly soft lips shocked him. Ushijima's hands had immediately shot up to pull him in, even before his mouth registered that they were kissing. Oikawa deepened the kiss from the get-go, opening Ushijima's lips with his tongue, searching for a playmate, and it didn't take long until Ushijima met him halfway. They were both already breathless, air puffing between them, chests constricting in tandem. Oikawa almost expected to find Ushijima hard again, when he pressed their bodies even closer together, hands roaming through Ushijima's hair, which still hadn't lost last night's silkiness. 

It felt too good. Fuck, it felt way too good to think straight. Oikawa had dug a hole for himself and he just now noticed that he had fallen deep. He was hopelessly attracted to Ushijima's body.

All this time, his hatred had kept him from seeing past Ushijima's annoying habits, his rude behavior, his inflated ego. But last night had broken the spell and now he was standing in the middle of the campus, sucking on Ushijima's tongue and to top it all off, it was not Ushijima getting hard this time. 

Oikawa pulled out of the kiss, inhaling deeply. His eyes were growing bigger and bigger with every second that passed, every second he understood more of what had just happened. Ushijima was only just opening his eyes, wondering why the kiss had suddenly stopped, but Oikawa wouldn't wait around to see what happened now. 

He took off, earphones waving behind him as he ran away from the situation, leaving Ushijima to stand there with his hands halfway up in the air, still in the same position as when they were holding Oikawa. 

A look over his shoulder showed that Ushijima remained standing there, blinking in confusion after Oikawa's retreating form. 

Fuck. _What had he done?_

Oikawa sincerely hoped that there weren't any people with cameras around. At least he couldn't see anyone, so if there wasn't some kind of stalker sitting in one of the trees to film him, this little incident wouldn't make it on Oikawatch. 

It was probably for the better, even though Oikawa felt like it was a loss that he kissed Ushijima without getting any credit for it. Doing such an awful thing should at least make him famous!

Really, he didn't know what to feel anymore. 

_“It was just a distraction tactic,”_ he told himself. _“You just did it so he wouldn't chase you anymore! And it worked, so mission accomplished.”_

The stairs back in his dorm building were even crueler than earlier this morning. Oikawa almost passed out as he tried to climb them with so little air remaining in his lungs. Still, he had just enough air left to give a hoarse scream after dialing Iwaizumi's number as soon as he flopped down in his bed.

“You've been gone for half an hour, what could you possibly have done this time?” Iwaizumi said, sounding insultingly weary.

Oikawa over-dramatically sobbed into the receiver until he was sure to have Iwaizumi's full attention.

“I KISSED HIM AGAIN! I MET USHIWAKA-CHAN AND I KISSED HIM ON THE MOUTH!” he wailed, forgetting all about the thin walls of these dorms. 

There was a long pause from Iwaizumi's end, then a sigh. 

“If this is a tactic to get my attention, let me just tell you-”

“It's not!” Oikawa interrupted. “I promise, Iwa-chan, something is definitely wrong with me! I just wanted to have a nice run, but then I heard Ushiwaka calling me and I took off, and he chased me all across campus, and when he finally caught up with me, my brain was shortly possessed by a demon and the demon kissed him right on the mouth.”

“Right,” said Iwaizumi. “Right, of course. These things just happen sometimes. Actually, I would have been surprised if it turned out that you are not actually possessed by a demon.”

“Iwa-chan! This is an emergency!”

“Stop yelling, or I'll refuse to pay a phone bill in the future. I can hear you even without it. Don't you have any neighbors?”

“Who cares about my neighbors? This is about me!” Oikawa whined over the sound of Yahaba pounding against the wall. The pounding stopped as soon as he said it, and the next thing Oikawa heard was the door when Yahaba fled from his room.

“Iwa-chan, you have to help me!”

He didn't hear Iwaizumi's response, because the door to his room was just being kicked in and Oikawa screamed, “What the fuck? It was open!”

Futakuchi stomped into his dorm room, sporting an incredible bedhead only rivaled by Kuroo's. So he had spent the night at Yahaba's place. Hah! Those two should be thanking him instead of complaining.

“There are sheets on the floor – you take the legs, I'll gag him!” Futakuchi said. Behind him, Yahaba walked into the room, looking no less ruffled. They were both in their underwear. Oikawa would have wolf-whistled if Futakuchi hadn't stuffed his mouth with a pillow case.

“Those are dirty!” Oikawa spluttered, but he had no chance against the two of them. Yahaba wrapped his legs up in the sheets and tied them to the bed, Futakuchi did the same with his hands, and soon Oikawa looked like he was taking part in some sado-maso ritual, unable to move or speak. 

Yahaba found his phone with Iwaizumi still on the line once they were done.

“Hello Iwaizumi”, he said. Oikawa knew that his best friend was just politely greeting back instead of demanding that they free him. “Sorry about the interruption. Oikawa will be available again in an hour, when the rest of the house has had their fair share of sleep.”

What a bunch of ungrateful assholes! Oikawa tried to send them a death-glare, but it didn't work that well with a pillow case in his mouth. 

“Yeah thanks, you too,” Yahaba said into the phone, then he hung up and threw the phone at Oikawa's head, luckily missing. 

“See you in an hour,” yawned Futakuchi, letting Yahaba take him by the hand and pull him out of the room.

They really went back to sleep after that. 

Assholes.


	3. Chapter 3

Oikawa was left to lie in his bed, unable to do anything but replay the scene at the pond in his head – and the multiple scenes in the night club, and maybe also some shower scenes from way back. Their university actually had private shower stalls, but they had been to training camps with a communal shower before. 

Not that Oikawa had _stared_ or anything like that. It was just in his nature to be aware of his surroundings. And you couldn't really share a shower with Bokuto and not feel the need to know what everyone was hiding under their jerseys. The thing about Ushijima was, that – when you saw his _eyebrows_ , you'd think he'd be some hairy bear underneath his clothes. But Oikawa had never been so wrong in his life. 

Ushijima had practically shone under the shower, flawless skin glistening with water, not a single hair to be seen anywhere. It had looked so soft, Oikawa had wanted to lick it for a second, only to spend the rest of the night researching intrusive thoughts and whether or not they were normal to have. The following morning, he had called Iwaizumi to complain about how annoying Ushijima was, and everything had felt normal again.

Nothing felt normal now, though. Because this time, licking Ushijima's skin was not just a fleeting thought. It lingered, uncomfortably. It plagued him one full hour, until he finally heard the door open again and Yahaba and Futakuchi came back in, looking a lot fresher than before.

Oikawa was ready to yell at them when they finally untied him, but then he smelled milkbread before the pillowcase was extracted from his mouth and he was saved from accidentally chasing two guys with milkbread out of his room.

“Food!” he demanded, reaching out his hand to snatch the paper bag Yahaba was holding. “You monsters just left me here to starve!”

“It was one hour,” Futakuchi yawned. “And you didn't let us sleep, so you deserved it.”

“You shouldn't be sleeping to begin with – you're a new couple after all, can't you think of some better things to pass the time?”

“We're not animals,” said Yahaba, sitting down on the bed and rolling up not unlike how an animal would. “We're normal humans, unlike you.”

Futakuchi let himself fall down on the bed as well, pushing Oikawa to the side so he had more room to himself. Oikawa didn't protest – he was too busy ripping into the milkbread like a starving man. 

“So Ushijima, huh? I totally called it.”

“Two non-humans finding each other, a real star-crossed romance,” Yahaba agreed, leaning against his new boyfriend to whisper in his ear. “We should make a video to Katy Perry's 'E.T'.”

“If I find out you were the Cascada people,” Oikawa said through a mouthful of milkbread. “You're dead!”

Futakuchi just snorted at the threat. 

“Fine, but you will be teased _relentlessly_ for spending your first night as lovers making a video to the worst song on earth.”

“You just don't know what true romance is,” Yahaba said, pressing a kiss to Futakuchi's cheek, disgustingly sweet. Oikawa almost choked on his milkbread. He couldn't believe he'd helped create this deadly combination. He really did some stupid things when he was drunk.

“So, what will you do about Ushijima now?” Futakuchi asked, leaning back against the wall like a king on his throne. “You're not on Oikawatch yet with the campus kiss, just in case you were wondering. But it shouldn't take long, since you announced it to the whole building.”

Oikawa thoughtfully chewed on his breakfast, waiting for an idea to come. However, it turned out his mind was completely blank. 

“I'll simply walk around with that bag over my head,” he said, pointing to the brown paper bag the milkbread had been delivered in. “We'll just say that Oikawa Tooru died. I've always wanted to know how people would mourn me. Two birds, one stone.”

“So, will paper-bag-man replace Oikawa Tooru on the volleyball team, or can I finally be the starting setter?” asked Yahaba. “Depending on the answer, I might help you fake your death.”

“We don't have to fake anything,” said Futakuchi. “I've wanted to kill Oikawa for a while now. This is the perfect opportunity.”

“Thanks guys, real helpful,” said Oikawa. He still had no idea how to deal with the situation, but at least he had milkbread. The rest would probably sort itself out with time.

It did not, of course, sort itself out with time.

Oikawa spent the rest of that Sunday locking himself in his room, trying to catch up on sleep. There were dreams he wasn't too keen on remembering, so he decided to distract himself by screaming at Kuroo and Bokuto, like he had planned to do since this morning.

With the help of some sunglasses and a hoodie, he managed to sneak over to their dorm unnoticed. It was not easy to hide his general aura of beauty, but everyone was so used to him presenting himself on a silver plate that no one expected him to try and be sneaky. 

They were not even surprised when he walked through their unlocked door. In fact, it looked like they had ordered a third pizza for him.

Anyway, what was everyone's obsession with feeding him to escape a good tirade?

“You guys have really done it now!” he said, pointing at them with a piece of deliciously soggy pizza. He had to stop pointing before all of the topping fell to the floor, so he quickly turned it and took a bite. He was ascending to heaven in an instant, all of his worries forgotten.

“You're welcome.” Kuroo was grinning at him from where he sat in his desk chair, straddling the backrest. Bokuto, for whatever reason, busied himself with climbing out of the window. 

“The fuck is this?” Oikawa asked, his words barely intelligible due to the pizza he had stuffed in his face with one bite. 

“Akaashi started working at that new pizza place across from the post office, so obviously we had to go and try it out. Now Bokuto is practicing his tower-climbing skills.”

Oikawa wondered if he should ask why. Probably not, because he did not want his mouth to be separated from that pizza for longer than half a second. Kuroo was never one to talk too little, though, so he elaborated without being asked to.

“The professor had us work on a project where we take romantic tropes from fairytales and turn them into commercials for Valentine's Day, and now Bokuto is obsessed with climbing to Akaashi's dorm, which is like two stories above ours.”

“I don't think the ivy will be enough to hold him,” Oikawa voiced his concerns just as the sound of ivy being ripped from the wall could be heard, followed by a screech and a crash. 

“You alive?” Kuroo called, not sounding too concerned. His dorm was on the first floor, luckily, and Bokuto had survived worse.

“For now – but if roses are poisonous, then I won't be for much longer, because I think I just swallowed the one I had in my mouth!” Bokuto shouted back, giving Oikawa a rare moment of clarity.

He really _did_ need friends who wouldn't enable all of his stupid ideas. 

God, he missed Iwaizumi so much.

“I actually came here to yell at you,” Oikawa said, deciding that it was a good compromise to just speak through the pizza and hope Kuroo would understand what he said. “My life is over thanks to you!”

Kuroo swiveled around in his chair to face him. 

“Oh please! You're right smack in the middle of a new scandal and you love it.”

Oikawa wanted to protest, but Kuroo's stare had something magical, like he could see through all of your lies, so don't even bother. Sometimes Oikawa wondered if he was actually about to lie or if Kuroo just managed to make him _think_ he was.

“I would love it if it weren't Ushiwaka of all people!” he finally groaned. “This will make playing on the same team so awkward.”

“Who cares?” said Kuroo. “You managed to work through it in your first year, you'll manage to work through it now. 

“In my first year, I never rubbed my half-hard dick against Ushiwaka's in front of an entire night club,” Oikawa mumbled darkly. “How does one work through that?”

“You had a breakdown in the middle of the gym when you saw him standing there in our uniform,” Kuroo reminded him.

“Yeah, that was so embarrassing,” Bokuto added helpfully from out of view. Oikawa wondered if he'd just decided to stay down in the bushes and chill, or if he had actually broken something. 

“Are you okay, though?”

“Don't worry about me. Worry about your pizza getting cold – I'd hate you more if you let that happen than if you let me bleed out,” Bokuto called back. 

Oikawa had inhaled his pizza so fast that there was only one piece left. He decided that he needed to use the last piece as inspiration – this soggy piece of delicious pizza was the closest thing to perfection Oikawa had ever seen. Surely it had the ability to grant him a moment of serenity in the middle of this whole disaster. Kuroo watched him thoughtfully chew on his pizza, grin spreading across his face. 

“So...” Oikawa said, finally wiping his mouth on a napkin he'd found lying around. “Do I just ignore Ushiwaka and hope that he understands I still don't like him, or do I try and talk to him?”

“Talk,” said Kuroo.

“Talk!” Bokuto repeated from beneath the window. 

“Fuck you guys, you just want more drama!”

“Come on, you know that it's the right answer,” said Kuroo, once again sounding wise beyond his age when Oikawa knew for a fact that all he wanted was to sit back with popcorn and watch Oikawa's life turn to shit. That's because Kuroo was just as much of a sucker for scandalous things as Oikawa, with the small difference of possessing too much sanity to let it show on his own person.

That's why Kuroo was studying business, hoping to become a public relations manager. A true pity for someone who actually had half a brain, but Oikawa wasn't really one to judge. 

“Fine then!” he spat, getting up from his place on the floor. Now that the pizza was gone, he didn't really have much reason to stay. “I will talk to him. But if he tries to kiss me again, I'm holding both of you responsible!”

With that, he went, not mentioning the incident where he had met Ushijima again that same morning and it had not been Ushijima initiating a kiss, but the demon residing in Oikawa's brain.

In fact, the next time they met, Ushijima didn't look like he would try to initiate anything. All he said was, “alright”, and then he turned around to put on his volleyball shorts.

“Is that it?”

Oikawa was standing with his back leaned against the lockers, stabbing Ushijima's back with a mean glare.

“You've been in love with me since middle school and when I tell you that nothing will ever become of us, you just shrug your shoulders and return to how things were?”

Ushijima bent down to tie his shoes, totally concentrated on the task, until Oikawa cleared his throat to remind him that they were in the middle of a conversation. Ushijima turned to him, furrowing his brows a little. 

“I never said I was in love with you.”

Oikawa opened his mouth, but he couldn't come up with anything to say, because he had not expected that to be Ushijima's answer.

“But... you kissed me!” Oikawa finally spluttered, thinking back to the gif he had seen on Oikawatch, the way Ushijima had closed his eyes, breathing in as if his whole future happiness was depending on the following action, the way he had stretched out his arm, not a second too late. Oikawa had been almost out of reach, but Ushijima had swirled him back around like some goddamn Disney princess, and... 

Fuck him! How could he not be in love with Oikawa Tooru? _Everyone was_. 

“You kissed me, too,” said Ushijima. He was reaching for his towel and water bottle, as if to leave the momentary privacy of the locker room to join Bokuto in the gym. They were always the first ones here. But the others would come, soon, and Oikawa needed to resolve this _before_ that happened.

“That wasn't me, that was my evil twin!” he said, jogging two steps to catch up to Ushijima, who was already walking towards the door. 

Ushijima stopped for a moment to look at him.

“I just never said I was in love with you, that is all. I also never said that I wasn't.”

“Pedants are really annoying, you know?” Oikawa called after him when Ushijima walked through the door, leaving him to stand there. “Super awful personality trait to add to all the other bad traits you already have. I really wonder how you manage not getting punched in the face 24/7! It's probably because you look like a grizzly bear!”

A hot, hairless grizzly bear, he added in his thoughts, only to punch the wall. For fuck's sake!

He really needed help, and pronto!

Practice that day was somehow different than it used to be, but not in a bad way, which came as a huge surprise. They met Bokuto on the court, slamming volleyballs against the wall, like he always did when he couldn't find a victim to assist him this early in the morning. The three of them were the first ones to show up every Tuesday morning, and they had created some kind of ritual where one practiced his killer serves against the other two's receives. Their team had already become famous for their serves – between the three of them, they were able to get most points through serves alone, and sometimes they even had to hold back or the game would become too boring.

They didn't talk much during those training sessions – even Bokuto was more or less calm, only whooping in victory or groaning in frustration from time to time. 

Today, however, Oikawa's concentration was interrupted when he suddenly heard Ushijima's voice pipe up on the other side of the net. Oikawa was just about to run up for a serve, so it was more than insulting to hear the others chit-chat when they should brace themselves against his famous killer-serve. 

He let the ball sink back down, throwing an annoyed look to the other side of the net, but what Ushijima had said kept him from actually interrupting.

“Bokuto, I have a question.”

Surprised, Bokuto turned his head to look at Ushijima, who still seemed to think about how he should ask whatever question was so important. 

“I need to know – what makes volleyball... fun?”

Bokuto's mouth opened, for once no sound escaping it. Oikawa understood why. He didn't know what to say either. Was Ushijima insinuating that he'd never had fun while playing volleyball?

Finally, Bokuto barked a laugh. “Oh man! It's been ages since I last heard that question!”

Oikawa couldn't help but join the conversation. “Are you telling me you don't actually like volleyball?” he asked, dribbling the ball on the floor. “Because my world view is just about to shatter.”

“No, I am very fond of volleyball,” Ushijima said, and Oikawa found that there was something akin to relief washing through him. He tried to shake it off by throwing the ball into the air, like he had done so many times before.

“Then get ready to kiss the ball!” he yelled, running up, jumping, and slamming the ball. It was aimed right at Ushijima's face, just like Oikawa had planned it – his aim had gotten scarily precise ever since he had started practicing with those two. Ushijima barely managed to escape to the side before the ball collided with the floor behind him, the impact of it resounding in the gym. Bokuto gave a round of thunderous applause. 

“Now _that_ is fun!” Oikawa laughed, jogging up to the other side of the net to take Ushijima's place in their rotation. “Don't you agree?”

“It's more fun when I win,” Ushijima said. 

“See, you do get it!” Bokuto yelled from the other side of the court. He had already gotten in position, turning the ball in his hands. “You must have had so many winning moments, I don't see how you could possibly not have fun with volleyball.”

Ushijima didn't reply anything immediately, because Bokuto had already thrown the ball into the air, running up to serve it with almost inhuman power. But his precision still couldn't rival Oikawa's, so Ushijima actually managed to receive it, resulting in a frustrated groan from Bokuto.

“This was better,” said Ushijima, absentmindedly rubbing his arms. The receive must have stung. “But I didn't voice my question right. I was wondering how I can make volleyball fun for other people.”

He was looking at Oikawa when he said it, so Oikawa had to make sure to keep a straight face, even though he felt like screaming.

This had been his own doing, hadn't it? This was about what he had said to Ushijima back at the IceBreaker. About how he didn't like playing with him, because he was a dictator on the court. Did he feel bad about it?

Not really. The look on Ushijima's face was more of the determined kind than the unsure one, so even though Oikawa's comment had meant to hurt, it hadn't done any damage – quite the opposite, in fact. Ushijima suddenly gaining an interest in real team-play could only be good.

“Have you ever played volleyball with Terushima?” Oikawa asked, casually passing him a ball to go and get ready on the other side of the court. 

“No,” said Ushijima. “I never played against him either. He was at Johzenji, wasn't he?” 

“Yeah, he was the captain, too. Kind of a wild card, especially for a captain, and their nonexistent strategy didn't bring them very far. But he understood one thing about volleyball – and that is that you need to take _risks_.”

Oikawa watched Ushijima nod curtly before he ducked under the net and walked to the other side of the court. 

“It's true,” said Bokuto, stretching his arms to get ready. “The triumph you feel after a risk is so much sweeter.”

“Alright.” Ushijima nodded again, and then, without warning, he threw the ball high in the air. Just like Oikawa and Bokuto before him, he ran up, jumped, raised his right arm-

His _right_ arm – Oikawa blinked in confusion, only sensing that something was different, but not seeing it right away – he braced himself, ready to step in line of the ball and stop it – and then Ushijima's arm slammed down, missing the ball entirely. He fell back on his feet with a heavy thud, the ball anticlimactically rolling away.

Two seconds later, the gym was filled with Bokuto's wheezing.

Oikawa would have liked to join in the laughter, really - the way Ushijima looked at the ball, the fuzzy caterpillars above his eyes puffing up to give him an irritated look, was nothing if not comical. But at the same time, he had to suppress the urge to just walk over there and kiss him.

And it wasn't just a passing feeling, it was a strong urge, the kind where Oikawa made three actual, physical steps before he was able to stop himself.

"FUCKING AMAZING!" Bokuto was still wheezing, having fallen to the floor at some point. His laughter was infectious, but it had no effect on Oikawa, because the urge to walk over there remained, and grew with every second he resisted it. If he let go now, he would probably not only kiss Ushijima, he would probably try to tear his jersey from his body, too. It was dangerous, because the rest of the team could walk in at any time. Oikawa even thought he could hear their voices coming closer from the hall. He had to be strong.

Ushijima just tried to serve a ball with his right hand because he wanted to be risky and _fun!_ No one had ever done something like that for Oikawa. Even that one time a secret admirer had sent so many roses to his house that Oikawa’s mother called the police to make it stop – it all paled before this simple little gesture.

Bokuto finally managed to stop the wheezing, coughing out a few last laughs before he wiped the tears from his face.

“Oh man!” he panted, getting up from the floor. “Sorry about that. You can’t expect the risk to just magically work at the first try.”

“I think it worked well,” Ushijima said, showing no frustration whatsoever. He was looking straight at Oikawa, until Oikawa finally noticed that he’d been smiling the whole time – a big, honest one. He quickly raised a hand to hide it and turned away.

The doors to the gym opened at that exact moment, spilling the rest of their team onto the court. Kuroo materialized at Oikawa’s side, slapping his back in greeting.

“What happened to you? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“I need to fuck him,” Oikawa said in a grave voice. “I need to get it out of my system. I need it to _stop_!”

Kuroo looked like the cat who got the cream, so Oikawa punched him in the shoulder.

“But I won’t!” he said. “Because I’m not actually that big of an asshole, so there!”

“Since when? Do I have to call the monastery?”

“Fuck off – I’m definitely enough of an asshole to deprive you of your life-giving drama.”

Kuroo crossed his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “The drama is in your blood, my young padawan. You have no means to suppress it. Sooner or later, destiny will find you.”

“Destiny will find your ass in the form of my foot!” Oikawa threatened, picking up a stray volleyball just to throw it at Kuroo’s head. Their coach kept them from fooling around by blowing his whistle, signifying the beginning of practice. Finally. Oikawa kept the volleyball in his hands, settling for a middle finger.

“How brutal,” said Kuroo, still with that unshakable grin of his. “Whatever. You know I’m always right.”

Oikawa _did_ know that Kuroo was always right. It was like a curse.

But Oikawa would find a way around it.

Even if it cost him precious procrastinating-from-studying-time.

Oikawa would find a way to get this urge out of his system.

 

 

"Okay, so I googled it," was only half of Oikawa's starting line, but Iwaizumi interrupted him before he got to the best part.

"I need to _study_!" he groaned. "Don't you ever?"

"I think I'm enrolled in philosophy, but I'm not entirely sure. I came here to play volleyball."

On the other end, Iwaizumi was completely still – a sign that he was seriously fuming now. But the silence was a good opportunity for Oikawa to turn the conversation back to where he had wanted it to go.

“I found the solution to all of my problems!” he announced, throwing an arm up in the air like Iwaizumi could see. “And it's called lucid dreaming!”

Iwaizumi remained silent for a while, but Oikawa knew exactly how long to wait until he cracked him.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I'm glad you asked,” Oikawa chirped, leaning back against the wall and pulling at a strand of hair. “It's a beautiful technique that would help even you get laid, Iwa-chan – even though it's still just in your dreams.”

“I will fucking-”

“ _Lucid dreaming_ ,” Oikawa interrupted in an annoying tone of voice, “is being asleep physically, but being awake in your dreams. Basically, you know exactly that you're dreaming and you can control everything you do. Imagine, Iwa-chan! You're free to do everything your imagination allows you to!”

Iwaizumi just groaned again. “Yeah, so logically you'd use that time to fuck a guy who you could easily fuck in real life, instead of... I don't know... flying, or traveling the world.”

“Some people use this technique to study in their sleep,” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi was suddenly silent again, only his breathing becoming a bit more heavy. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“Continue.”

“It's not easy to master, but once you can do it... oh, imagine the possibilities! I could escape all of the annoying consequences – no feelings on Ushiwaka's side, no fans turning everything into some disgusting romance... I could even erase Ushiwaka's bad personality and make him into a tolerable little doll.”

“Why do you sound exactly like a villain from a comic book?” Iwaizumi commented, but Oikawa was far too giddy to rise to the provocation.

“Come to think of it, I could even reduce the eyebrows a little!”

“Are you getting a boner over plucking Ushiwaka's eyebrows now? Because if that's how you decide to waste my time-”

“Iwa-chan. I just gave you a way to study _in your sleep!”_

Iwaizumi just thanked him with a grunt that probably wasn't intended as a thanks at all, but Oikawa was a generous guy, so he took it as one. 

“Anyway,” he said, “this means that you owe me your time to listen to what I have to say. So – Ushiwaka's _abs_ -”

Once again, he was interrupted by his door being kicked in and crashing against the wall. Oikawa gave a screech, because he was only in his underwear, and it was kind of an embarrassing pair – yellow, with a big smiley face across his ass. Not something he'd want a cute girl to see.

It was not a cute girl, though, it was just Futakuchi. However, he was red with rage again, which was his cute state, so Oikawa's fears became at least halfway true. 

“What the fuck is this?” Futakuchi barked, pushing a little brown something in Oikawa's face. Yahaba stormed into the room behind Futakuchi, getting a hold of him before he could throw himself at Oikawa.

“Could you stop breaking into my dorm?” Oikawa asked calmly. “What if I were actually busy?”

“You're busy wasting my time!” Iwaizumi bellowed on the phone. Oikawa ignored him, because he had just realized what the little brown thing was.

“Oh my God!” he squeaked, snatching it from Futakuchi's hand. “It's so small?”

“Why do I get a special edition Toorubear?” Futakuchi sounded like he was close to tears. “Why do I get a Toorubear at all?”

“Calm down,” said Yahaba, sounding as exasperated as if they'd been married for twenty years. “It's actually super cute.”

It really was. It looked exactly like the normal Toorubears – little teddy bears made to look like Oikawa, with the same little tuft of hair on their heads, showing a peace-sign. The Oikawatch admins had started to give them out as a trophy for all the people who made out with Oikawa, and somehow, they had become a sign of prestige. They could even be sold for a lot of money, which had helped one or two poor college students afford an important book, or an actual healthy meal. To some people out there, Oikawa was something like a hero. And they weren't wrong. Oikawa's kisses came close to a superpower, after all.

“You know, most people are _happy_ when they get a Toorubear,” Oikawa smugly informed Futakuchi. “They are worth quite a bit. You could probably double it with this special one.”

“I never made out with you!” Futakuchi whined, turning to Yahaba with pleading eyes. “I swear, you have to believe me, I never-”

“Calm down, I wouldn't even mind. Better Oikawa than those squeaky girls you always had to rub in my face.”

“Also, we did kinda kiss,” Oikawa said, shrugging. “Wasn't a very good one, though. Too wet.”

“I was _yelling_!”

Oikawa would have kept arguing with Futakuchi, because it was one of his favorite things to do, but he suddenly realized something awful. 

If Futakuchi got a special bear, then... oh no.

He shot up from his bed, throwing the small Toorubear in Futakuchi's face, and reaching for a pair of jeans lying on the floor. Yahaba and Futakuchi watched him curiously as he tried to slip into the jeans while he ran across the room to fetch his hoodie and sunglasses, almost falling on his face. Yahaba went to pick up the phone Oikawa had left lying on the bed, greeting Iwaizumi, who still seemed to be on the line. What a hypocrite, always acting like he had to study, when he was so starved for drama.

“I think he just realized who else got a bear,” Yahaba said into the phone, sounding nothing but gleeful. “And now he needs to go and check if it's a special one.”

“HA!” Futakuchi called after him, but Oikawa was already out of the door, hiding his face behind the sunglasses. 

It was probably better if nobody saw him running over to Ushijima's room at full speed.

He had been there only once, in his first year, because the coach had made him deliver a form to Ushijima. The room had been surprisingly cluttered, but only because Tendou had been visiting and left his Jump magazines lying around in every corner. Other than that, there was a huge amount of plants decorating every surface, each one looking vibrant and cared for. If Oikawa was honest with himself, that had been what made him open up to Ushijima a little. Just enough to play on the same team as him without punching his face in. Because Ushijima may not care about other people's feelings, but maybe he wasn't heartless, maybe he was just a big, awkward oaf, and that was easier to like than someone who dismissed all of Oikawa's hard-earned victories, and all his emotional bonds, just because they didn't bring him as far as _Shiratorizawa_ could have. 

He had to pass three buildings undetected. There weren't many people coming his way, so he was lucky that someone opened the door to Ushijima's dorm building just when he arrived there. 

The guy was wearing a yellow cap and vest and gave a little yelp when Oikawa pushed past him to get through the door. He had looked like a deliveryman... Oikawa cursed under his breath as he ran up the stairs. It was probably too late already. Also, why did Ushijima have to live so high up? Oikawa was really tired of climbing stairs.

When he finally reached the right room, he barely had to knock before Ushijima opened the door, looking surprised upon seeing him.

"Oh!" he said, turning to look at the huge Toorubear sitting right behind him. So the deliveryman Oikawa had seen coming out of the building had really just brought it. "Did you-" Ushijima began, before Oikawa broke into his room by ducking under Ushijima's arm.

The teddy was enormous - it almost reached Oikawa's chest. Just a bit bigger, and it would have been life-sized. The thing had to be worth a fortune. Ushijima with his comfortable sports scholarship and single room definitely didn't need it.

"You need to get rid of that!" Oikawa ordered, kicking the teddy bear on its back, just because he felt like it. "Sell it and give the money to charity."

"Uhm..." Ushijima turned to give Oikawa a puzzled look. "But why? It's cute."

"Could everyone stop saying that?" Oikawa groaned, kicking the teddy again so that he didn't have to look at the annoying wink embroidered to its face. "This thing is an insult to my beautiful looks!"

Ushijima didn’t seem to like it when Oikawa kicked his teddy, because he quickly closed the door and picked the teddy up in his arms, holding it out of reach from Oikawa’s feet. He went to put it down on his bed, which Oikawa hoped was just a momentary solution.

“I think I saw one of these in Terushima’s room,” Ushijima pondered, ruffling Toorubear’s hair. “What do they mean?”

This time, it was Oikawa who just stood there with a puzzled look on his face, because – it’s been ages since he met someone from this university who didn’t know what a Toorubear was. And at least that last guy had been a professor. Just – how antisocial could the ace of a volleyball team be?

“You've never heard of the Toorubears?” Oikawa asked.

“I think I did hear that name before…” Ushijima looked constipated, trying to remember the context of the memory.

“They’re distributed by the Oikawatch people,” Oikawa explained, sinking down in a chair with a sigh. “They’re trophies that are supposed to prove you once made out with me. It’s all bullshit, of course, because half the people owning a Toorubear just bought it off the black board.”

“So you never actually kissed Terushima?”

“Oh, no – I definitely did. And believe me, it was worth it.”

Ushijima turned around at that, not letting Oikawa see his face, and for a moment, Oikawa thought he was doing something weird, like crying. But when he turned back around, he was holding a glass of water he had poured, putting it down on the table before Oikawa.

“What’s that?” Oikawa asked.

“Your breathing is flat. You seem to have run over here, so I thought you might be thirsty,” Ushijima said, sitting down in the chair next to Oikawa.

Oikawa closed his eyes, groaning again. “Ushiwaka-chan… you really need some lessons in appropriate social behavior,” he said, pushing the glass away. “Stop trying to control people so damn much. You may feel clever for guessing the other’s needs – but most people don’t actually live in a way where they do what they _need_.” His eyes involuntarily graced Ushijima’s biceps, and he hated himself a little for the implication. Hopefully, Ushijima hadn’t noticed. “I’m not some kind of animal whose only instinct is ‘Thirst! Water!’”

Ushijima slowly took the water to take a sip from it.

“What you do,” Oikawa continued, taking on a patronizing tone, “is that you ask your guests if they’re thirsty. And if they say yes, you ask them what they would like to drink. It’s not that hard.”

“Are you thirsty, Oikawa?”

Oikawa’s eyes were on Ushijima’s biceps again, and all he could say was, “Damn, yes.” Quickly clearing his throat, he repeated himself, hopefully sounding like a normal human being this time. “I mean – I could drink something, yes.”

“And what would you like to drink?” Ushijima asked, already standing again.

“You have coffee?”

“I do.”

“Coffee, then.” Oikawa nodded, pleased to see that his educational methods were already working. He should have tried being nice to Ushijima sooner – maybe that way, he would have grown up into an actually tolerable person.

Ushijima worked his coffee machine for a minute, so Oikawa used the time to look around his room. The last time he’d been here, he hadn’t stayed for long. The plants and the mangas were the only thing to catch his attention. Now, he noticed some more things. The giant teddy bear on the bed was obviously the most notable piece of decoration, but it was surprisingly not the only stuffed animal in the room. There was a little bunny sitting in one of the shelves – it looked rather plain: just a brown bunny with black button eyes, but it was old and worn out, as if Ushijima had possessed it since he was a child.

Other than that, there was more clutter than Oikawa would have thought. It was all neatly put away, but Oikawa could still see the Snuggie hanging over the backrest of a chair, and the futuristic looking steamer hiding behind the closet. The little kitchen was harboring all kinds of weird appliances, and if Oikawa were to guess, he’d categorize Ushijima as a teleshopping victim.

It was hard not to laugh at the realization.

“Do you take milk or sugar into your coffee?” Ushijima asked, with the voice of someone who had suddenly gained a ton of personality in the last minute. Oikawa couldn’t hide his grin.

“Both,” he said. “And generously.”

He watched Ushijima add both things to his coffee until the liquid was a light brown. At least he understood the word 'generously'. 

“So, this better not be a sneaky decaf,” Oikawa warned, as he took the mug from Ushijima's hand. “I wanna be unable to close my eyes the whole night, I wanna vibrate in bed, fighting my own brain for sleep. But right now, I just wanna enjoy the thing I like most. Do you have something to say about that?”

Ushijima sat back down in his chair, not making one move too many, as if he were afraid of spooking Oikawa if he did so. As if he couldn't believe that Oikawa was sitting in his room right now, making small talk.

“I don't think one cup of coffee and cream will have such a big effect,” he said, sounding like this was a test question.

“Oh? You're not gonna tell me that my decision was stupid?”

“Well...” Ushijima paused, looking over Oikawa's shoulder at the big Toorubear sitting on his bed. “Are you asking whether or not I think it's a stupid idea?”

“Nope,” Oikawa chirped. “I'm asking you to keep your opinions to yourself, because they don't matter to me. I won't let just anyone boss me around like that. So next time you want to give your opinions about my life, think real hard about whether or not you're in the position to do so.”

“I will,” Ushijima said earnestly and Oikawa took a content sip from his coffee.

It was almost cold from too much milk. Most importantly, it wasn't perfect. Oikawa had never tasted anything more delicious.

He stayed longer than he expected, in the end. Now that he had gotten a glimpse into Ushijima's life, he was interested in finding out more. Ushijima stayed seated in his chair while Oikawa went to poke around the room unprompted. 

The Snuggie was the first thing to catch his attention. 

“You don't even have a TV in here,” he said, slipping into the sleeves of the huge blanket. “What do you even need this for? Isn't this for, like, eating popcorn while still being toastily wrapped up?”

“I use it for reading the newspaper on cold winter mornings,” Ushijima said. He was watching Oikawa curiously. He didn't seem to mind that Oikawa was going through all of his stuff. 

“Are you serious?” Oikawa snorted. “The newspaper? How do you even get that here? Everyone reads the news on their phones. Get with the times!”

He turned, still wrapped up in the Snuggie, to inspect the shelf next to Ushijima's bed.

“What about this?” he asked, pointing at the bunny. “Your first stuffed animal?”

“No, that was my dog's favorite toy,” Ushijima said. “He died back when I was in high school.”

Oh. Oikawa felt a little bad about it, but he would have liked to see Ushijima then. He would have liked to know what sadness looked like on his face. Not for petty reasons, just out of curiosity. Ushijima seemed to be one of those guys who had deeper bonds with animals than people. The death of his dog must have hit him hard.

“So you kept his toy,” he said, flopping down on the bed to get a better look at all the books in the shelf. “I didn't know you could be cute.”

“Thank you?”

“Although...” Oikawa said, pulling a copy of 'The History and Social Influence of the Potato' out of the shelf, “this nullifies all the cuteness you could possibly have.”

“Oh,” said Ushijima.

So Oikawa had been wrong. 'The History and Social Influence of the Potato' definitely didn't nullify the cuteness of that dejected sounding 'oh'. Fucking hell! Oikawa turned around to face the Toorubear, simply because he couldn't stand discovering any more things he liked about Ushiwaka. 

“It really is huge,” he said – now that he was sitting down, it was even more obvious. He didn't even have to lean down to look into Toorubear's face. “It must have cost a fortune to have it made.”

This one was even wearing a little bow around his neck. Oikawa ruffled the little tuft of hair sprouting from the teddy's head, annoyed by how much softer it was than his own hair. How dare that piece of fur be cuter than Oikawa. He pulled at both of its ears, making a face at it. 

“You're not cute at all, stop giving me that look,” he told the teddy.

Toorubear just kept winking at him. 

“You really need to get rid of it,” Oikawa said, turning to find Ushijima staring at him. Okay, so Oikawa had to look pretty ridiculous, wearing that big Snuggie and talking to a bear made to look after his own likeness. But at least he wasn't the one _owning_ a Snuggie and a ginormous Toorubear.

“If you don't want to sell it, then burn it in a fire,” he said.

“Do I really have to?”

“There's no space in here for such a big bear anyway,” Oikawa said, hoping Ushijima got the message. He really didn't want to picture Ushijima keeping the teddy in his own bed, cuddling it at night. That was... creepy.

“Anyway, I only came over to tell you to throw that thing out, so now that my deed is done, I will be going back,” Oikawa announced, standing up from the bed and shrugging out of the Snuggie. “Thanks for the coffee and for keeping your opinions to yourself. You did well, for today.”

Ushijima followed him to the door, opening it for Oikawa like some kind of gentleman. People could be heard out in the hallway, so Oikawa quickly pulled the hoodie back over his head. 

“Uhm,” Ushijima said, before Oikawa could flee. He was leaning out of his door, as if he wanted to follow behind Oikawa. “Will you be visiting again?”

Oikawa didn't answer immediately. Ushijima had been nice to him, so Oikawa couldn't just yell, 'Never!', like he should have. 

“I'll have to check on the Toorubear situation someday,” he finally said. It was a good thing to settle on. No promises made, but not unnecessarily vile. Oikawa mentally patted his own shoulder.

“I have to go now, before I'm recognized,” he said, already halfway across the hall. “Bye bye now.”

“Goodbye, Oikawa,” Ushijima called after him. Idiot! Calling his name throughout the building certainly wouldn't help Oikawa to escape unnoticed. He quickly jogged down the stairs and was glad to see that it had already gotten dark outside. He liked to think that he could melt into the shadows like a spy, or a ninja. 

Nobody stopped him on his way home, so Oikawa had high hopes of ending this day without spawning another article on Oikawatch. 

Yahaba and Futakuchi were both gone once he returned. He thought he could hear them in Yahaba's room, but it was the kind of noise where he didn't want to interrupt, so he put some music on to let them know he was there, and then he opened his laptop to rewatch some of their team's old matches. 

He still had a long night ahead of him, after all. The coffee kept his mind spinning, the music kept his blood pulsing, and the videos kept him focused. This night, there would be no unwanted dreams, for once.

 

When Oikawa woke up the next morning and casually clicked through his phone, still half asleep, he did not expect the sudden onslaught of notifications from the Oikawatch app.

That's right. There was an _app_!

"What the fuck," Oikawa yawned, clicking on the first notification in the list. He was suddenly met with a picture of himself, tousled hair only halfway hidden by the hoodie, coming out of Ushijima's room. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses either - they lay forgotten on Ushijima's kitchen table, now that he thought about it.

Fuck. So those people in the hallway had really recognized him. It was such a hassle to be famous, sometimes.

Maybe he shouldn't have just jumped out of bed without looking in a mirror before he ran over to Ushijima's dorm. He looked like he was on a walk of shame in the picture. Even worse, Ushijima could still be seen leaning out of his door, one hand halfway reaching for Oikawa's sleeve, as if to hold him back. Did he always have puppy dog eyes in photos or was that just when Oikawa wasn't looking?

Oikawa let the phone sink back down into his sheets. It was way too early to deal with this.

It was also way too early for someone to be knocking on his door.

Since the door wasn't kicked open two seconds later, it had to be someone other than Futakuchi and Yahaba, so Oikawa peeled himself out of his sheets with a groan, shuffling over to open the door.

Kuroo stood there, looking like Death himself.

"You're awake?" Oikawa didn't think he ever saw Kuroo up this early.

"8am class of hell," Kuroo said, his eyes already half-closed. "But got canceled. Your dorm's closer than mine, let me sleep!"

"Fuck off!" Oikawa said, stepping out of the doorway so Kuroo could stumble in. They had the slowest race to the bed, Oikawa getting there just a second faster, because Kuroo still had to kick off his shoes. Then they collapsed into the mattress, tangled up in each other in a way that allowed them both to fit without any body-parts floating over the edge.

Oikawa wasn't actually that tired. He was one of those annoyingly chirpy morning people - but looking at Kuroo with his bedhead and bloodshot eyes always had a tiring effect. So he let himself be pulled back into some kind of dozing sleep, where he could still feel the time pass around them, but dreams came to him anyway. Kuroo's arms around his middle suddenly felt a lot bigger and heavier than they actually were, and the black mop of hair tickling his nose turned into a dirty brown one.

He could see Ushijima lying in his bed, too big to properly fit in it, ass halfway over the edge. It had to be uncomfortable, but Ushijima never complained. His thumbs were slowly stroking circles onto Oikawa's stomach. It felt nice and cozy, Oikawa’s breaths slowing down with every circle, until Kuroo suddenly grunted in his sleep and tore Oikawa from his dream.

The vision changed each time Oikawa momentarily woke up and tried to will the dreams away. But two seconds later, he was already asleep, this time looking at Ushijima sit on his kitchen chair with his Snuggie on, reading the morning paper and drinking a cup of coffee. It looked _ridiculous_. And yet, Oikawa yearned for it, yearned for that human side he had only just started to recognize in Ushijima.

Up until now, he had never bothered to get to know Ushijima personally. He’d always been some caricature, some arch-nemesis Oikawa had created for himself – someone he wanted to beat on his way to the top. Now that they were playing on the same team, the rivalry had more or less come to a halt, but Oikawa still refused to see Ushijima as anything but a weapon he could use on the field.

No wonder playing volleyball with him was boring. It was all Oikawa’s fault – by refusing to see Ushijima’s quirks and personality, he had overlooked so many possibilities which were his job as a setter to make use of. Ushijima wasn’t a dictator on the court – Oikawa was. Blindly pushing the big weapon around just the way the coach told him to, because he was too proud to apply his own genius to someone who had looked down on him for so long. 

Oikawa shot up from his bed with a scream, kicking the blanket to the floor, Kuroo almost jumping out after it. What the hell was he even thinking about? These awful half-sleep dreams were letting in all kinds of unguarded thoughts… no wonder Oikawa never slept in too long. It apparently made you stupid in the head.

“What’s going on?” Kuroo whined, shuffling his body back into the bed so he wouldn’t fall out. “You wanna give me a heart attack?”

Oikawa looked down at Kuroo, who was squinting at him, hair pointing every which way. He looked warm and cozy – like a _friend_. And as a friend, surely Kuroo wouldn’t have any objections to give Oikawa exactly what he needed right now.

“You need to kiss me,” Oikawa said, breathing heavily. Kuroo grimaced, his eyes still barely open.

“What – right now?”

“No, I’ll text you the time and location later. Of course now, you idiot!”

Kuroo gave a pitiful whine, like someone whose mother had just told them to come eat when they hadn’t saved the game on their console yet. But like any mother, Oikawa didn’t take no for an answer, and he leaned down to push the button himself.

The whine slowly dissipated between their lips, turning into a breath, then into a more content sigh.

This was much better. Surely, Oikawa just had an insatiable need for kissing, and Ushijima just haunted him because he happened to be the last person Oikawa had kissed. Maybe Oikawa just needed to have real sex again. Maybe kissing alone wasn’t enough to satisfy him anymore.

Kuroo’s hand slowly crept up his side, soft and warm, and Oikawa deepened the kiss, one hand supporting Kuroo’s mess of a bedhead to pull him closer.

Honestly, he missed this. He missed these cozy morning kisses with two bodies stuffed into a too small bed, limbs loosely tangled up in each other, the anticipation for coffee and breakfast greater than the need to pull your pants off.

For over a year now, Oikawa had done nothing but make out with people in the IceBreaker, always drunk and too far gone to really appreciate it. He had forgotten how nice it was to wake up with a person, to smell them in your room and fight over a blanket and make breakfast together. To share space. Share everything.

Oikawa just wanted to open his eyes and see Ushijima sitting there in his Snuggie, reading the morning paper, drinking coffee…

“Fuck!” Oikawa yelled, pulling away from Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo didn’t look too sad about it – he seemed to be halfway back to sleep anyway. No wonder Oikawa couldn't get into the right mood. He pulled at Kuroo's nose for punishment. “What’s with this half-assed effort? Kiss me or sleep, you decide!”

“Sleep,” said Kuroo, already closing his eyes, but Oikawa threateningly put his foot against Kuroo’s thigh, ready to kick him out of the bed. “You bully!” Kuroo moaned. “I’m never coming here to sleep again!”

“Then you’ve learned your lesson. Now shut up and kiss me.”

Kuroo’s effort didn’t really increase, but at least he hugged Oikawa closer, kissing with his whole body instead of just his mouth. Oikawa somehow managed to turn him on his back without them falling out of the bed, and finally, a bit of heat grew between them. Kuroo opened his legs so Oikawa could lie on top of him, their bodies slowly rocking against each other. Kuroo's fingers played at the hem of his shorts, teasingly dipping in now and then. 

Oikawa finally relaxed under those soft hands caressing him and stopped trying not to think of Ushijima so damn hard. Ushijima would have never touched him there anyway. He remembered when they were back on the dancefloor and all he had wanted was for his hands to slide just a little bit lower, yet it never happened. Because Ushijima was a cruel, cruel person. He always seemed to be so straight-forward, but Oikawa knew that he liked to tease, like right now, with his fingers only slipping halfway into Oikawa's pants, fingernails lightly scratching over the skin there. It was driving him crazy. He wanted more, needed more, needed to feel Ushijima's big hand cupping his ass and pulling him closer, grinding him against the hardness Oikawa could feel between them. 

“Waka-chan,” he pleaded, hips stuttering between Ushijima's legs. “I need...”

He wasn't sure what exactly he needed, but it wasn't to be catapulted out of the bed suddenly, fall only softened by a collection of unwashed clothes and a brown paper bag. Oikawa gave an over-dramatic screech, but it was drowned out by someone else screaming, someone who was definitely not Ushijima.

“You asshole!” Kuroo yelled, pointing a finger at Oikawa, who had finally realized the game his own mind had played on him. “You used me!”

“I'm so sorry!” Oikawa yelled back, hiding his face behind his hands. He could barely believe what had just happened. This was the most embarrassing situation he'd ever been in. “It wasn't on purpose!”

Kuroo didn't buy his excuse and grabbed the pillow on the bed to smack it in Oikawa's face. There was more force behind it than Oikawa anticipated, and since he deserved to be smacked with a pillow, he didn't brace himself against it, so Kuroo managed to crash his head against the floor with a disturbingly loud sound. Oikawa howled in pain, and Kuroo, knowing that he went too far, slipped down from the bed with a panicked look on his face.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“I'm still alive, I think,” Oikawa moaned, closing his eyes against the pain. It only made his head reel more. 

“Fuck...” Kuroo sat down at his side, feeling the back of his head to check for any damage. When he didn't come away with blood, he forced Oikawa's eyes open to check if his pupils were still working. Finally, he leaned back, looking dejected. “We really are the worst of friends, huh?”

Oikawa closed his eyes again and awkwardly patted Kuroo's hand. “Don't worry. If this ever happens again, I'm gonna beg you to finish the job.”

“I really hate you,” Kuroo sighed, in the same voice everyone always did. Oikawa really had a talent for being annoying to a lovable extent, and he took pride in it. It was what made him so special. Ushijima, for example, would never know this, because he was impossible to annoy. 

They spent a few minutes in comfortable silence while Oikawa waited for the pain in his head to subside. After a while, Kuroo looked at him, clearly trying to hide a grin.

“So,” he said, casually. 

Oikawa already knew that he was going to hate this.

“ _Waka-chan_ , huh?”

“FUCK!” Oikawa yelled, finally summoning the pounding against the wall from Yahaba's side. He had almost forgotten that those words had left his mouth. He wanted to wash his tongue with soap. “SHIT!”

Out of the corners of his eyes, he could still see the scrunched-up paper bag lying around. Seemed like it was finally time to vanish from the face of the earth. He took the paper bag and pushed it over his head while Kuroo brayed with laughter. It was too much for Yahaba and Futakuchi to take, so they barged into his room again, ready to tie him to the bed. At least that's what Oikawa guessed, because he couldn't see much with the paper bag over his head.

“Oh!” he heard Yahaba's voice say. They had probably not expected to find Kuroo here – they weren't strong enough to tie both of them to the bed, so their plan was foiled for now. Oikawa heard the bedspring squeak under Yahaba's weight. “So is paper-bag-man a thing now? Oikawa finally died?”

“Like I said,” came Futakuchi's voice, followed by more squeaking from the bedspring. “Just say one word and I can end it once and for all.”

“I already tried,” said Kuroo, patting Oikawa's papery head. “It's not as easy as it looks.”

“Shut the hell up, you bullies!” Oikawa sobbed. How dare they take pleasure in his misery! “My life is already over! I can't even have any nice platonic make-outs anymore because Ushiwaka infiltrated my brain.”

“Platonic make-outs,” Yahaba snorted, probably rolling his eyes.

“I don't understand your problem,” Futakuchi said. “I mean – he likes you, for whatever reason. And you obviously like him, so... the math isn't all that complicated.”

“Oh really?” Oikawa finally ripped the paper bag from his head to form it into a ball and throw it at Futakuchi's head. “Then why did it take so long for you two to get together, huh? You've been fucking Yahaba for over a month and were still like 'I'm probably not gay, it's just a phase, I can just bury the urge, preferably in Yahaba's ass!'” 

Futakuchi just gaped at that, turning to give Yahaba an outraged look, but Yahaba just shrugged his shoulder. 

“He's right, you know?” he said. 

“Well – that's different!” Futakuchi finally said. “You are as comfortable with your sexuality as anyone I've ever seen!”

“I'd rather date a brick wall than Ushijima!” Oikawa spat. “You guys wouldn't understand, because you don't know him as well as I do. All that guy cares about is being the best – he disregards other people's feelings and efforts all the time. Every time we met in high school, he told me that I chose the wrong path by going to Aoba Johsai. I poured everything I had into that team – I injured my knee, I didn't sleep, I trained so hard that I sometimes forgot to eat. I actually passed out once. Without Iwaizumi there, looking after me, I probably wouldn't be here now. I had a team that looked out for each other, I had _friends_ there.”

Yahaba's expression changed into a soft smile – he knew exactly what Oikawa was talking about, after all. 

“I don't care that we lost to Shiratorizawa each and every time,” Oikawa continued, sniffing. “If I had gone to Shiratorizawa, I would have broken down at some point, and nobody would have cared, because it would have made me weak. So I don't need someone like Ushiwaka telling me that I'm going overboard. I fucking know that, alright? I need someone who actually cares about my well-being, and not just because it endangers our chances of winning a match.”

Nobody said anything for a while – they were all just looking at him with pity in their eyes. He knew that they were all thinking the same.

He missed Iwaizumi. So damn much.

“Shut the fuck up!” Oikawa said again, even though nobody had been talking. “I don't... miss him.”

Now he wished he hadn't thrown the paper bag at Futakuchi's head, because he was pretty sure there were tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. What a stupid reaction – of course his body had to ridicule him now. He didn't have any control over it since Friday night. It was all Ushijima's fault, of course.

“Oh boy!” Kuroo finally broke the silence, lying down on the floor with his arms crossed behind his head. “What a mess. I get how you're feeling, though. Ushijima with his bluntness really has the potential to hurt. But that was back in high school, wasn't it? I mean – even Ushijima still has room to grow. You should give him a chance. He's a good guy at heart, I'm sure of it.”

“Even so, their past is... unfortunate,” said Yahaba. Finally someone who wasn't dead-set on pairing him up with that idiot Ushijima. Oikawa was glad to have such a loyal kouhai. “I mean – I don't think you guys understand the rivalry between Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa. Almost every time, our teams would meet each other in the Miyagi finals – we were a good team. A _great_ team. We all worked our asses off. But the Shiratorizawa guys, and Ushijima in particular – they didn't even see us as a real opponent. They looked down on us if they even bothered to look at us at all. Oikawa was the only one Ushijima recognized as a talented player, but it was only to tell him that all of his choices were wrong and all the work he put into training was for nothing, because in the end, he still wouldn't win. Coupled with the fact that we actually _didn't_ win in the end – do you have any idea how ridiculed that makes you feel? It's not something you can forget simply because someone tells you that he didn't _mean it like that_ , that he _actually has a good heart_. We need to stop treating Oikawa like he's the only one with a problem here. Ushijima has faults too.”

Oikawa was pretty sure that he had stopped breathing somewhere in the middle of Yahaba's monologue, and now the breath came out stuttering with emotion. He climbed onto his bed, kicking Futakuchi to the side so that he could snuggle up to Yahaba and squeeze him in a hug.

“You have to break up with Futa-chan. You're mine now,” he said. 

Yahaba affectionately ruffled his hair, much to Futakuchi's dismay. 

It was, all in all, a perfect moment. Then Yahaba had to ruin it with a, “But!”

Oikawa immediately startled out of the squeezing hug to give his kouhai a suspicious squint. This was probably Futakuchi's influence. He really shouldn't have helped them get together – now Yahaba was forever ruined.

“This is the perfect opportunity for you two to work out your differences,” Yahaba said, not bothered by Oikawa's betrayed look. “I'm not saying you need to start dating him or anything. But maybe this could be motivation to actually talk to him, get to know him better, maybe learn to understand how his brain works. That's your thing, after all – especially in your role as a setter. I know it drives you crazy that you're stuck with Ushijima. He's already perfect as a spiker, there's nothing you can do for him except send him those boring high tosses and let him do all the work. I know you long to mix it up, to find a toss for him no other setter could come up with. But until now, you've been too proud to give Ushijima more than a fleeting thought.”

A grin grew on Yahaba's lips, which was a perfect copy of Futakuchi's. “After all you have done with him last Friday – how much pride do you have left?”

Oikawa shot up from the bed with a scandalized screech. “I still have loads of pride left, just so you know!”

“That just makes it even sadder,” Futakuchi smirked, quickly closing the gap Oikawa had left between him and his boyfriend. 

Oikawa just gave a half-hearted, “Shut up!” - he was actually thinking about what Yahaba had said, because Yahaba was a smart guy worth listening to, even though Oikawa wouldn't admit it out loud. 

It was true that this whole disaster had helped him open up to Ushijima, at least a little bit. Their training session with Bokuto had been an amazing start, for example. He had realized that Ushijima was actually _willing_ to try new things, even if they were unlikely to be successful. And yesterday, when he had run over to his room, he had managed to teach Ushijima how to treat his guests without patronizing them.

So maybe Ushijima really had the capacity to grow and change. Not enough to be a _boyfriend_ , of course – but maybe enough to be a... a friend. Possibly. 

There was only one problem.

“How can I be friends with him if I get an overwhelming need to kiss him every time he does something even slightly unexpected? And by that I mean acting like a normal human being,” Oikawa groaned, flopping back down on the bed. 

“Just kiss him, then,” said Kuroo. He was still lying on the floor, clicking through his phone. “You do it with all your _other_ friends. I don't think he'll complain.”

“I just do it with my other friends who know that kisses can be platonic,” Oikawa said, digging a finger in Yahaba's side. Futakuchi was ready to splutter something with rage, but Oikawa quickly talked over him. “Also, what if I, God forbid-” he actually shuddered a little just thinking it, “what if I actually develop a _crush_ on that oaf? I mean, my body's reaction is bad enough, but what if he manages to put a spell on my heart, too? My life would be officially over then. I'm a high-maintenance guy, I can't be with the emotional equivalent of a brick wall. I'd be so miserable!”

“Ushijima is not the emotional equivalent of a brick wall, he simply isn't able to communicate his emotions well,” Futakuchi said. “And neither are you, for that matter. You just go in the other direction of extremes.”

Oikawa already opened his mouth to protest, but was drowned out by the other two immediately agreeing with Futakuchi. Did all of his friends have to be such traitors? Oikawa voiced his displeasure with a long whine and rolled himself up in the blanket.

“Case in point,” said Yahaba, kicking the Oikawa-burrito until he rolled to the floor. 

“You're all horrible friends,” said Oikawa. “Could you maybe stop roasting me and start being helpful?”

“Don't worry.” Kuroo was still clicking through his phone, a huge grin eating up half of his face. “You can't be helped, you're already rotten. But Ushijima may still learn how to communicate his feelings.”

He turned his phone to show Oikawa what he'd been looking at, and of course it was the Oikawatch app, showing a collection of pictures Oikawa hadn't seen before.

They were all of Ushijima, taken throughout the week. Oikawa had never noticed it before, but apparently he had become unable to sense Ushijima's stare, because in each picture, Ushijima was looking at Oikawa, who was somewhere in the background, usually talking to other people. And it was hard to see, but Oikawa believed to detect something like longing in his eyes. It could all just be coincidence, of course – everyone was looking at Oikawa when he was out on campus. And the longing was something you automatically interpreted when someone put up a whole gallery of one person looking at the other. But still, Oikawa felt something flutter in his stomach – he knew it was that flattered pride, that warm validation whenever you suspected someone having a crush on you. It was a selfish feeling, because it had nothing to do with whether it was reciprocated or not. It just made you feel _good_. And then it made you feel bad for feeling good, but you still couldn't help it. 

Oikawa cringed a little at his own reaction. Then he noticed that there was something written under the gallery. Something apparently addressed to Ushijima. 

_So you guys have noticed that Ushijima's crush is the most obvious thing in the world. However, he seems to be a little awkward with the whole wooing-thing. Little tip, Ushijima, if you're reading this: You can always let others express your feelings for you. Music can be your language. Maybe the old boombox under his window trick? I'm sure everyone is awaiting your next move in your quest of wooing Oikawa Tooru, so give it everything you've got, and remember;_

_You are being oikawatched._

_xoxo_

“NO!” Oikawa yelled, holding the phone in trembling hands. Kuroo only just managed to save it from being thrown across the room. “FOR FUCK'S SAKE, IF HE SHOWS UP HERE WITH A BOOMBOX, I-”

He interrupted himself to scramble into the kitchen corner, still tangled up in his blanket.

“What are you doing?” Yahaba asked, curiously watching him rip open his mini-fridge and digging through its contents.

“Rotten tomatoes. I'm pretty sure I still have some rotten tomatoes in here.”

“You seriously are a mess of a human being,” Futakuchi said, scrunching his nose in disgust. 

Throughout the whole chaos, Oikawa almost didn't hear his phone vibrate. He whipped around at the last second and saw Kuroo reaching for his phone. The rotten tomato in his hand was catapulted in Kuroo's direction without Oikawa making a conscious choice to do so. It hit Kuroo right in the face with a sickening splat while Oikawa dived for his phone before anyone else could get a hold of it.

Kuroo cursed loudly while trying not to swallow any of the rotten tomato dripping from his nose. His face looked like a pizza someone had eaten all the topping off. But he deserved that. Sadly, Oikawa forgot to snap a picture, because he was frantically tapping on the message he had just gotten.

It was from Ushijima.

He had actually gotten a message from Ushijima, and he was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with volleyball. 

“It's a song!” he informed everyone as he looked down at the file Ushijima had sent him. There was no comment to go with it. Just the file, looming ominously in Oikawa's inbox.

“Well,” said Yahaba. He was obviously trying not to laugh out loud. “This is a bit more subtle than a boombox, at least.”

“I'm afraid to open it,” said Oikawa. He barely noticed that Kuroo was using his blanket to rub his face clean. “What if it's a love song?”

“Can't you see what song it is?” Futakuchi asked, eyes glowing with sudden interest. 

“Never heard of it,” said Oikawa, reading the band and title. “Chandelier by Hotspur. Anyone?”

They all shook their heads and now Oikawa was even more afraid of opening the file. What kind of music did Ushijima even listen to? He would have guessed classical, simply because it was the most boring option he could come up with, but 'Hotspur' didn't really sound too classic. 

“I should google it first,” he said, but Kuroo stopped him from closing the message. 

“Just press play, it makes literally no difference!”

Well, that was true. Still, Oikawa almost forgot how to breathe when he moved his thumb to press play. 

He didn't get a moment to brace himself. The lyrics began at the first beat.

_You've made it crystal clear_  
You are a chandelier  
I am the floor beneath you  
So low, I cannot reach you  
You are the constellations  
You are the stars above  
Light years away from being  
Something that I could touch 

Kuroo was the first one to voice what they were all thinking.

“Holy shit!”

Next was Oikawa with: “What the fuck!”

Finally Yahaba, with his hands over his heart: “Oh no! This is so sad. Oikawa, what have you done to him!”

_”Nothing!”_ , Oikawa yelled, quickly stopping the song before it could get any weirder. “Isn't he the one who always thinks he's better than everyone else?”

“Surprising genre, though,” Kuroo mused, already on his phone to search for the band. “What is this, emo?”

“He's just trying to mess with me!” Oikawa spat. But he had the perfect answer to that. Futakuchi and Yahaba both leaned over the edge of his bed to watch him furiously click through his phone. 

“You're sending a song back?” Futakuchi asked with glee. “Oh my God, which one?”

“I'm being straight-forward for once,” Oikawa said. “It's 'Don't Mess with Me' by temposhark.”

“Uhm...” said Kuroo. He didn't elaborate, so Oikawa sent the song with a grim nod.

“That'll show him.”

“Do you actually remember the lyrics?” Kuroo asked. He was grinning again, so Oikawa knew he had waited for him to send the song on purpose. 

“It's about how he shouldn't mess with me,” Oikawa said, but Kuroo's laughter irritated him, so he quickly googled the lyrics. Once he found them, he couldn't do much more than look at them in complete horror. 

“You fucked up,” Futakuchi said dryly, looking over his shoulder to read the lyrics. For once, Oikawa didn't protest, because he was right. 

_Show me sex appeal, get on your hands and knees_  
Forget about the the meal, it's best to keep me pleased  
Imagine if you will, our meet on the block  
I've got time to kill, so how about a quick fuck? 

_I've come, it's been fun_  
But won't you please disappear?  
Something tells me that you can't further my career  
In my crown I am king  
I love their endless worshiping  
I am raw, a dinosaur  
But I will never be extinct 

_So don't mess with me_  
I'll shoot you down  
Don't mess with me 

„Oh, wow,“ said Yahaba. „This is...“

„I didn't remember it was so sexual!“ Oikawa whined. „Now he'll think this is a booty call!“

„I don't think Ushijima understands what a booty call is,“ said Kuroo. „More importantly – he's reading Oikawatch?“

„No way, he didn't even know what Toorubears were,“ said Oikawa. „And stay on-topic, please! What do I do now?“

“Well, this is super mean, so I doubt he'll mistake it for a booty call,” Futakuchi said, squinting at the lyrics. “I gotta say, though - _in my crown I am king, I love their endless worshiping_ \- this song really is made for you.”

Oikawa almost threw his phone across the room when it suddenly vibrated in his hands. 

Ushijima had texted back. 

_This is a good song. Thank you._

“Oh my God,” snorted Futakuchi. “He is... he is so cute.”

“Still messing!” Oikawa yelled, but the phone vibrated once more, and he saw another file in his inbox. This one, he actually knew. 

Futakuchi and Yahaba both battled for the place with the best view at Oikawa's side.

“A Sia song?” Yahaba asked. “Play it!”

Oikawa did as he was told. He had calmed down somewhat ever since he had read the song title. They all listened to the first verse before the refrain came on, and Oikawa could even sing it from memory.

_And I've never played a fair game_  
_I've always had the upper hand_  
_But what good is intellect and airplay_  
_If I can't respect any man_  
_Yeah I want to play a fair game_  
_Yeah I want to play a fair game_

It only took one second of resolve for Oikawa to stop the song and dial Ushijima's number. Around him, everyone was starting to freak out. 

“Oh my God, you're _calling_ him?” Yahaba gaped, shaking his shoulders. “Put the loudspeaker on, for heaven's sake!”

“I need to record this whole thing,” Kuroo muttered while he tried to open his camera app with shaking fingers. “You should have given me a warning first, holy shit!”

Futakuchi just pushed his ear against the backside of Oikawa's phone, hoping to hear the whole conversation.

As soon as Oikawa said, “Hello, Ushiwaka-chan!”, everyone was suddenly not making a sound. 

“Hello,” Ushijima said, not even sounding surprised about Oikawa calling him. Well, that wasn't unexpected. 

“Ushiwaka-chan... that song you just sent me. Is it about volleyball?”

“I'm free after seven pm and the coach gave me the keys to the gym. Would you like to join my training?”

Oikawa closed his eyes, trying very hard not to laugh. 

“You... you can't just send me a song like this and expect me to understand that you want to _play volleyball_!” he groaned. Next to him, both Futakuchi and Yahaba were shaking with laughter. 

“But you did understand, didn't you?” Ushijima said, as clueless as ever. 

Oikawa gave a long, exasperated sigh. “I guess... I guess I'm starting to understand how your brain works,” he said, throwing Yahaba a sideways glance. He was grinning, of course. “But next time, just ask me like a normal person!”

“I would have, but a lot of people were suddenly messaging me about expressing my feelings in music.”

Yep – not reading Oikawatch, still. Oikawa wondered if Ushijima even knew that he was the site's new star. 

“So,” Ushijima said, sounding just a little bit awkward. “Will you come?”

Oikawa turned to look at his friends, all of whom nodded frantically – looked like they didn't have any problems hearing Ushijima after all. 

“Yes, fine,” Oikawa finally sighed. Whatever, he wouldn't turn down an opportunity to train anyway, even if it was with Ushijima. And he actually looked forward to seeing Ushijima try some more risky things. That could only be fun. “I'll meet you there at seven.”

“Thank you,” Ushijima said, way too formally. “I need to hurry to class now, so I have to finish the call. Have a good day, Oikawa.”

“Yeah... uhm. You too.”

Oikawa let the phone sink down into his lap, turning to look at the expressions of the others, only to find that they all looked like Oikawa had just turned into a giant pineapple.

“What.. what's wrong?” he asked carefully.

He was met with a three-voiced screech of, “Class!”, then he was tackled back to the floor as everyone around him scurried away in a hustle. 

His room was empty in no time, his uninvited guests leaving no traces except a tomato-stained blanket. 

Looked like Oikawa would have a laundry day.

He stepped over the dialogues of Plato and started to collect his dirty clothes from the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

At 7 PM that same day, Ushijima and Oikawa met each other in the locker rooms.

It was kind of awkward between them, at least Oikawa thought so. Ushijima didn't really act any different, which was exactly what made it so awkward.

They had been alone in the lockers together many times before, because they usually started training at the same time. Shortly after Bokuto, but still before everyone else. But they usually sat at opposite ends of the room, not looking at each other.

Now Oikawa couldn't help but stare when Ushijima took his pants off without a moment's hesitation, and stood there in his tight boxerbriefs to dig through his bag for a pair of volleyball shorts. 

Oikawa couldn't tear his eyes away from that damn _bulge_ until Ushijima suddenly asked if he was ready, turning only to find Oikawa still standing there with his clothes on, only halfway to his locker.

“Uhm...” Oikawa said, quickly opening his locker so the door would hide his reddening face. “I'll need another minute. Just go on ahead, I'll be right there.”

Ushijima left with a simple nod and Oikawa banged his head against his locker as soon as he heard the door shut behind him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He should have realized that meeting Ushijima alone for a training session would be weird. Of course his body wouldn't stop with its reactions towards Ushijima just because Oikawa had told himself that they could be _friendly_. Ever since he had realized that Ushijima was actually hot, there was no going back. He was stuck living a miserable, horny life, simply because he was not enough of an asshole to fuck a guy who had feelings for him.

Oikawa sure wished he wasn't such a selfless person.

For a moment, he wondered if he should just go into the showers and jack off so that he could concentrate again. But then his pride didn't let him. He was here for _volleyball_ \- he was here for the team, he was here to finally figure out how to get Ushijima to reach his fullest potential. 

He took a deep breath, and finally, he could concentrate on the important stuff again.

Ushijima was waiting in the gym, doing warm-up exercises. 

“So, Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa chirped. The cheerfulness sounded way too fake, but Ushijima wasn't that good at sensing these things. “You want to become a team player now?”

“I've been unhappy with my playing style lately,” Ushijima said earnestly. He didn't seem to be embarrassed by his honest statement, so Oikawa decided not to make fun of him for now.

“And why's that?”

Ushijima looked like he was actually thinking hard about the question. Finally, he tilted his head – an answer must have come to him.

“I used to be one of the top three spikers throughout high school. But now I'm up against older, more experienced players, whom I've never met before. And they are better than me. However – no matter how much I train, I can't seem to catch up to them. The gap between us is too big. Even in our own team, I am only called the ace because I get the most points. But when Bokuto is in top form, he too is better than me.”

“And that bugs you, huh?” Oikawa couldn't help but gloat a little. He had always known that this would happen. That there would come a point when it wasn't possible for Ushijima to continue his egoistic and simplistic playing style. 

“I am not annoyed that I'm up against better players. It's not something I'm used to, but I can accept that. I am annoyed that I'm still not the best I _can_ be. Our team now is very different from Shiratorizawa. It's not centered around me. Shiratorizawa was a great team to hone each individual player's skills. And this team will be where I learn to apply these skills like a cogwheel in a great machine.” Ushijima paused, suddenly looking sheepish. “So, will you help me?”

Oikawa couldn't do much but gape for a minute. He was no longer gloating, because it wasn't like Ushijima had come to learn from past mistakes or anything like that. He knew exactly what he needed to do, and he wasn't too proud to beg for Oikawa's help. 

Because in this one little thing, Oikawa was undeniably better than him. 

"Alright then, Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa finally said. He had already thought of something he wanted to do. Actually, he'd been thinking it for a while now, but something had always kept him from trying it. “Here's the deal. If we add our abilities, we can beat anyone. Doesn't matter how strong they are, doesn't matter how clever, how quick, how persistent. I can help you become unbeatable. But you have to trust me."

Oikawa couldn't believe he was saying these words with his own mouth. But he knew that they were true, and looking at Ushijima, seeing how he had lost confidence in his own abilities and how Oikawa's little speech was bringing a fire back Oikawa had never seen - Oikawa suddenly felt stronger than ever before.

"So, do you trust me?"

When Ushijima spoke, it was with feeling. "Oikawa," he said, voice sounding even deeper than usual. "You are the best setter I have ever seen. Even when I was at Shiratorizawa and preferred Shirabu with his easy sets, I always wanted to evolve into someone who could spike your sets. I always wanted to see what it would be like to have you tweak with my style. I wanted a _challenge_. To be honest, I was disappointed when you didn't take my breath away the first time you set for me. But I know it's not because you're a bad setter, it's because you don't respect me enough to grace me with your talent."

Ushijima turned his back to walk over to the wagon and took a volleyball from it, dribbling it on the floor pensively.

"What I want most is to have the kind of relationship with you where I can be a part of your court. I am no longer the one who makes the rules, but I'm more than happy to give you free reign, because I know that's how we _win_. So..." he turned around, spearing Oikawa with a sharp look. "I don't think I'm the one who doesn't have trust."

Oikawa forgot how to breathe for a moment.

He had never expected Ushijima to talk to him like this. Like Oikawa was a bully who deprived him of the thing he wanted most, just out of spite.

"Why..." Oikawa said, unsure how to react. "Why did you never tell me this before?"

"I got the feeling you avoided me whenever I was trying to talk to you. Besides, the way we were until now, it was better to keep things simple. Had I asked you to put your feelings into your sets, you probably wouldn't have tossed to me at all."

Brutally honest, like always, but Oikawa had started to get used to it. At least he wasn't boiling with anger inside yet.

"And how are we different now?" Oikawa asked, not because he disagreed, but because he wanted to hear Ushijima say it.

"I think..." Ushijima said, still dribbling the ball. "It's not... simple anymore."

Oikawa gave a grim smile, taking a step forward to take the ball from Ushijima's hands. The dribbling made their conversation sound like there were war drums in the background. But this wasn't war. This was the exact opposite.

"Then from now on, let's work together," Oikawa said, reaching out his hand.

Ushijima just stared at him, like he couldn't believe what was happening. Then, all of a sudden, he gripped Oikawa's hand, as if he had just realized that Oikawa could take it back at any moment.

"It would be an honor," he said. "I'll do whatever you need me to do."

At that, Oikawa couldn't help but grin, because Ushijima may feel good about this now, but Oikawa was going to kick him so far out of his comfort zone that he would be sweating blood and tears at the end of their training.

"I need you to let go of all control," Oikawa said, turning to walk towards his setter position. "And I need you to jump."

Ushijima didn't look like he understood, but Oikawa hadn't expected him to.

"I want to try something," he said, directing Ushijima to the spot he wanted to have him at. "Both of us have enough experience to pull it off by now. I may not be a genius like _him_ , but I've trained as hard as I could, and I'm positive that I can make it. All we need is a proper bond. And hours upon hours of training. You up for it?"

"I am," Ushijima said.

"Then jump!"

"But you haven't-"

"JUMP!"

Ushijima didn't protest anymore. He ran towards the net, jumped, and lifted his hand to spike an invisible ball that wasn't there yet.

Except it _was_.

Ushijima's hand whirred past it, like back when he had tried serving with his right hand. The ball fell to the floor, rolling away, and Ushijima landed with a heavy thud, but he wasn't watching the ball this time. Instead, he looked at Oikawa with an unreadable expression.

"You want us to do a freak quick combo," he finally said. "Like Hinata Shouyo and Kageyama Tobio from Karasuno."

"Please!" Oikawa scoffed, taking another ball from the wagon. "We won't be _like_ those two. We will be much, much better. You aren't as quick as that little cockroach, and you don't have as much stamina either. But you don't _need_ those things. Because combined with your leftie spike and your inhumane strength, it will feel like you just dropped a bomb on the opposite court. No one will have the time to get used to your spikes. No one will have the time to come up with clever strategies. I'll be just like 'BAM!', and the game is over."

Ushijima took a deep, shuddering breath, then he walked back to his position and wiped his hands on his shorts.

"Again!" he said, and jumped.

It was frustrating. As frustrating as anything that didn't work from the get-go. But both Oikawa and Ushijima knew what it meant to push through, to spend as much time with failing as was needed until it stopped being failing and started being not failing all the time. Minutes passed, hours passed, the big clock over the entrance just continued going round and round, and they did, too.

It wasn't easy to set with pinpoint accuracy to a left hand. It wasn't easy to be the one responsible for the failing, the one with the control, the one who had to step up his game if he wanted to keep his promises. But Ushijima never tired and never complained. He just kept jumping for hours, trusting that sooner or later, Oikawa would manage to put the ball at the exact place it needed to be, with the exact rotation it needed to have, and it would hit the floor like a bomb.

It was probably already past midnight when it finally worked out. Ushijima was sweating _lakes_. He had taken a few breaks in-between, so as not to injure his knees with the continuous jumping. Oikawa had even lent him his knee supporter, because he was worried that he forced Ushijima to go just as overboard as he himself always did. Ushijima was usually very conscious about training - sure, he trained a lot, but he was always aware of how much was too much, he was never too lazy or too caught up in his mission to remember stretching and taking breaks at healthy intervals. But today, it seemed like nothing could make him stop jumping for Oikawa, not even the prospect of ruining his body.

Oikawa wanted to stop soon. He could see that Ushijima didn't actually have any stamina left, that it cost him every ounce of willpower to jump up again and again. Yet, it felt like they were so close. Every time Ushijima just barely missed the ball, Oikawa told himself to try it just once more. Just once more. Just _once_.

"We should stop," he heard himself saying, common sense finally winning over determination. "You're going to pass out soon."

Ushijima's face was grim.

"Just once more," he said, repeating the mantra in Oikawa's head.

"Fine," Oikawa said, not really needing to be talked into it. "Just once."

Ushijima returned to his spot, throwing Oikawa one of the many balls rolling through the gym around them. Oikawa caught it and waited for Ushijima to gain enough breath to start another run-up.

The jump was not even close to as high as it usually was, but it was enough to go over the net. It seemed like everything was in slow-motion for a moment. Ushijima's raised arm, coming down, same angle, same speed. Oikawa knew it so well, knew that spike, knew it from both sides of the court, knew the sound when the ball hit the floor, the ball that he had tossed, like a gunshot, like-

An explosion.

That's what it sounded like.

Oikawa had never closed his eyes, yet it felt like he was only just opening them, looking for the ball that had to be jumping along cheerfully, but was nowhere to be seen.

Ushijima had hit it, and it had exploded, sent back up into the ceiling and for a moment Oikawa almost thought that it wouldn't come down anymore.

Ushijima stared at his own hand until the ball fell back to the floor, and then he roared.

It was a fearful sound. Like an animal. Oikawa's blood felt like fire, he felt like screaming, he _did_ scream. And not only did he scream, he ran - he ran towards Ushijima, _jumped_ towards him, throwing his arms around Ushijima's, and the next moment they were kissing.

Ushijima should by no means have left the strength left to carry Oikawa, yet he stayed standing, solid like a rock. He held Oikawa, whose whole body had wrapped around him, held him upright and didn't let go. The ball was still bouncing around in the background. Oikawa should have known that this would happen. The heat of the moment was a powerful thing, and Oikawa was already so weak. But he didn't feel weak at all, not with his mouth pressed against Ushijima's, not with his lips caught between Ushijima's teeth, not with his tongue pushing into the heat before him.

Oikawa would have liked to yell something. 'We did it!' resonated through his brain again and again, but it never made it out of his mouth, because he was too occupied kissing Ushijima with it. They communicated their victory through hands grabbing and tearing at each other, lips only parting to take a breath, but diving in again as soon as they could. This was nothing like their kiss back at the IceBreaker, it was nothing like their kiss out on campus; it was pure and utter triumph.

Thank God this hadn't happened during a _game_ , because Oikawa wouldn't have been able to stop himself. Ushijima finally started to run out of energy. He stumbled backwards, one step, two steps, but he still didn't let go of Oikawa. It took a while until Oikawa noticed that they were on their way towards the equipment room. Ushijima was carrying him still, stumbling around like he was drunk, but he reached his goal. They crashed through the door together - Ushijima kicked it closed with his foot, then he dropped Oikawa onto a pile of soft mats, breaking the kiss for a moment to take a deep breath, finally free of Oikawa's weight.

They looked at each other, both breathing hard, both sweaty and exhausted and too hot. They took a break just to come down for a moment, just to realize what they were doing, just to know that _yes_ , they would do this, right now, with each other.

Oikawa sat back up on the mats - he was on eye level with Ushijima, had him between his legs still, and he pulled him closer by the waist. He still wasn't saying anything. Maybe his eyes were talking, maybe they were saying, 'I want you'. He closed his eyes and let the rest of his body speak, kissing him again, pulling him ever closer. Ushijima made an impatient sound at the back of his throat. 

It was too much for Oikawa. He grabbed Ushijima's shirt and pulled it over his head, throwing it into some dark corner, not caring where it landed. He was only focused on the toned chest before him, shining with sweat. Ushijima's body was just _not fair_. Oikawa was lucky to be so confident about his own looks, otherwise he would have probably died of shame, seeing himself next to Ushijima like that. As it was, though, they were just perfect together. Oikawa pulled off his own shirt, since Ushijima was apparently still unable to move this whole thing forward, but then Ushijima surprised him by pulling at his shorts with one swift motion, so that both Oikawa's shorts and underwear were slipping down off his knees. Oikawa's erection was exposed between them, but Ushijima didn't even look down, he just pressed his lips back against Oikawa's, pushing him back into the mats.

Five minutes. Five minutes had gone by since that one lucky quick, and now Oikawa lay completely naked in the equipment room, with Ushijima slowly tracing his mouth down Oikawa's body. He was unable to think straight, with Ushijima's mouth sucking at his nipple and his strong hands grabbing around his middle to keep him from bucking up. Still unable to think straight with Ushijima's nose pressing into his solar plexus while his tongue circled Oikawa's bellybutton. Absolutely impossible to think at all with Ushijima's thumbs stroking along the pronounced V leading to his dick. 

It took more, it took something big, for Oikawa to finally come to his senses. It took Ushijima's mouth closing around the head of Oikawa's cock to wake him from the trance, to shake him to the bones, and he reached out a hand to pull Ushijima off him by his hair.

“Wait!” he said between ragged breaths. It was still hard to think. “We can't... I can't...” He swallowed hard, still feeling Ushijima's warm breath brush against his most sensitive parts. “This can't mean anything. I don't... I don't want you to think-”

“Oikawa!” Ushijima interrupted him, voice deep and rumbling. It felt like Oikawa hadn't heard his voice in forever. Then Ushijima decided to completely wreck him. 

“If it's you, I'll gladly take whatever you are willing to give,” he said.

Oikawa didn't need to hear more. 

He was so close. He pushed Ushijima's head back down, Ushijima obediently swallowing him up, proving his words to be true, and Oikawa cried out in surprise, gasping for air loudly as Ushijima swallowed his dick, again and again. Even his _mouth_ was powerful. Oikawa couldn't do much but lay back and watch the ceiling blur in front of his watery eyes, listening to the sounds Ushijima made. This blowjob wasn't playful, or skillful. Ushijima barely used his tongue at all, he just moved his mouth up and down Oikawa's cock, sucking _hard_. He stayed true to his rhythm all the way through, just slow enough to make Oikawa moan out in need, but fast enough that it would make him come eventually.

Oikawa couldn't help but to sneak another look at Ushijima when he heard him starting to moan around his cock. Ushijima's caterpillar eyebrows were furled, almost like he was in pain, except it was the exact opposite.

It took a moment for Oikawa to realize that Ushijima was jerking himself off. 

That was what finally pushed him over the edge. He barely managed a mumbled warning before he came, but Ushijima apparently didn't mind swallowing.

_If it's you I'll gladly take whatever you are willing to give._

Oikawa moaned again. Remembering the words, combined with watching Ushijima lick him clean of every drop, it was just too much. He had never expected it to go this way. He had expected for that awful need to go _away_ once he had given in to it, but he could already tell that this was going to haunt him. He still didn't have enough of Ushijima. He still wasn't tired of him. 

Just how much more did he have to do until he was satisfied?

“Oikawa, I'm-”

Ushijima's sentence was cut short by a sudden gasp, and Oikawa could tell by his face that he had come, too. 

So he knew Ushijima's orgasm face now. Great – just what he needed. Another thing to haunt him in his dreams. 

Ushijima heaved himself back onto the mats, next to Oikawa, and Oikawa was almost afraid that he would want to _cuddle_ now, but luckily Ushijima just needed to breathe. 

Good. Breathing was good. Oikawa was breathing, too – they were both just lying there and breathing, and not saying anything, until Ushijima raised one of his fists.

“I should probably wash this off,” he said.

Oikawa couldn't help but giggle a bit. This whole situation was so absurd. But even through that absurdity, Ushijima had remembered not to come onto the gym equipment and had instead used his own hand to catch it. 

What a goddamn nerd. 

“Ushiwaka-chan...” he said, turning around so he could look at Ushijima's face instead of the fist floating above him. “You know, that quick was probably just luck.”

“But you've seen what it can do,” Ushijima said. Oikawa almost thought to hear something like excitement in his voice. “We just need to practice more.”

“And we better pray that _this_ -” Oikawa gestured around to capture the whole situation, “-doesn't happen every time.”

“It would be very awkward during normal training,” Ushijima mused. The seriousness of his voice made Oikawa giggle again, so he quickly slipped down from the mats before he did something stupid, like kiss Ushijima through the after-glow. 

Their clothes lay discarded around the room, and it took Oikawa a while to find both their shirts. But finally, they were ready to leave the equipment room, looking obviously disheveled. But it was the middle of the night and no one was here anymore. Ushijima had locked the gym anyway, so they were safe from people with cameras. They would have to be careful while leaving the gym, though. 

“Can you get those keys again? I don't think we should use this move during our normal training yet. I want everyone to be really surprised,” Oikawa said when they were entering the showers. They had separate stalls, which Oikawa was glad about. Who knew how long his satisfaction would hold until he would jump Ushijima again. 

“I'm sure Coach will understand,” Ushijima said. He didn't even sound excited about being alone in the gym with Oikawa again, but that was just his voice. Oikawa knew that Ushijima was probably having the Ushiwaka-version of a heart attack right now. 

Fuck. Was he giving him false hope? 

Then again...

_If it's you, I'll gladly take whatever you are willing to give._

It sounded like Ushijima knew exactly what he was in for. Oikawa closed his eyes against the shower stream and let the water wash over his face.

He stayed in the shower a lot longer than Ushijima. 

Once he came back to the locker room, Ushijima was already fully dressed, only waiting to say goodbye to Oikawa. It was unclear how they should act for a moment. Oikawa wondered if Ushijima expected a kiss, but it turned out that Ushijima didn't expect anything. Oikawa had told him to let go of all control, and Ushijima had listened. 

“I'll text you next time I get the keys,” Ushijima said, already turning to the door. “When are you usually free?”

“I'm always free,” Oikawa said, drying his hair in a towel. 

Ushijima looked like he wanted to say something about that, but remembered that Oikawa didn't want his opinions, so he kept his mouth shut and nodded instead. “I'll be leaving now,” he announced, opening the door. “Good night, Oikawa.”

“Good night,” Oikawa repeated, watching him walk away until the door shut behind him.

At least they wouldn't step out on campus together. Even if it was the middle of the night, there surely were people waiting behind every tree just to snatch a picture of them together. Everyone was obsessed with them, after all. 

Oikawa took his time finishing up. He was exhausted, but he didn't want to go to bed yet, knowing that his dreams would only mock him. Iwaizumi was already asleep, as were all his other friends. He didn't have anyone to scream to.

On his way back to his dorm, he wondered if he should wake Yahaba up, but decided against it, because if Futakuchi was with him – which was likely – Oikawa really would have an unfortunate accident soon. 

His blanket wasn't dry yet when he came back. Just one more sign that sleeping wasn't what he should do now. So he went to get his carton of cornflakes, sat down in front of his laptop, and started rewatching his team's old matches again. 

This was what nights were for, after all. 

 

The following day, Oikawa met Shirofuku and Misaki for an emergency meeting at the new pizza place around the corner.

"You know," Misaki said, sounding much more amiable than she usually did when Oikawa was concerned. That had to be thanks to the magic pizza she was just stuffing her face with. "When I said that you should apologize, I didn't mean-"

"Letting him blow me in the gym equipment room late at night when no one's there?" Oikawa finished her sentence. He didn't look his usual self today, since he hadn't slept at all. His eyes were bloodshot, heavy shadows hanging underneath. He didn't have the patience to break it to them slowly, so he settled for bluntness. "Yeah, I know, I shouldn't have done that."

"Oikawa!" the two girls shrieked at the same time. The rest of their sentences weren't as synchronic anymore.

"How could you do that to him?"

"You really are the worst person I know."

"Ushijima is a _good_ guy!"

"-low, even for you-"

"-egoistical-"

"Shithead!"

"OKAY!" Oikawa yelled, slamming his piece of pizza back onto his plate and regretting it immediately. He quickly tried to build it back together, so that he didn't have to look at the girls. "I know, alright? I didn't do it on _purpose_. It just happened, I can't even explain why. We were training together, because I wanted to be nice to him and finally help him be a part of the team. But then we kinda overwhelmed ourselves and ended up where we ended up... whatever, you don't need the details. Just tell me what I should _do_!"

They were both quiet for a minute, just looking at each other like they were able to converse telepathically. Finally, Misaki looked at him with suspicion in her eyes.

"You trained with him?"

"I told you, I was trying to be _friendly_."

"Pity that you're so bad at being friendly, huh?" Shirofuku said. There was an amused twinkle in her eyes. "But honestly, I'm glad you were finally able to swallow your pride."

"Among other things," Misaki grinned.

Oikawa shot them a tired look, pushing the last, broken piece of pizza into his mouth.

"I didn't swallow anything," he said, chewing. "Ushiwaka did."

"You said you wouldn't give us any details!" Misaki protested with a gag, looking at her pizza like it was the dead body of her own grandmother. "Now I can't eat this anymore!"

“Don't worry, I'll help you,” Shirofuku said, already inhaling the rest of her girlfriend's pizza. 

Oikawa let his head sink down onto the table just as Akaashi came to take their empty plates away. He looked like he wanted to be as quick as possible so that he wouldn't be pulled into the drama. Oikawa couldn't let that happen, of course.

"Akaashi!" he whined, reaching for the apron around Akaashi's waist. "You're the perfect guy to help me! Please!"

"How's that?" Akaashi asked wearily.

"I see you ogling Bokuto every second he isn't looking, and yet you've managed not to bang him yet. _How_?"

"He still owes me a real confession," Akaashi said, shrugging. "He takes a while. I'm patient. I've been patient since high school."

"Ugh!" Oikawa let go of Akaashi's apron to bang his head back against the table. "What is wrong with you. You have no libido?"

"Nope," Akaashi said. "I have a brain instead."

"You're useless to me then," Oikawa groaned, waving him away.

Akaashi went with a mumbled, "thank God!" while Shirofuku and Misaki just giggled at Oikawa's misery. Oikawa sent them another tired look, but it didn't have the intended bite. Instead, it just looked pleading.

"Maybe you should stop trying not to hurt him," Misaki finally advised, leaning back from her plate. It was the last thing Oikawa had expected out of her mouth, so his interest was immediately caught.

"For real?"

"You shouldn't try to hurt him _on purpose_ ," Misaki explained, still looking like she didn't completely believe Oikawa wasn't trying to break Ushijima. "But if you can't hold yourself back around him, and he's that into you, then why stop? You can let this relationship progress, see if it works out. I'm sure he'll prefer to have his heart broken in exchange for a real chance, instead of just being stuck in that weird, awkward phase while the whole campus looks on."

Right. Oikawa had almost forgotten about the whole Oikawatch thing. Actually, he had even forgotten to check it this morning, so he quickly got out his phone to look through the notifications.

He knew that they were seen exiting the gym one after another before he even opened the app, because there were just too many notes.

"Shit," he said. "They caught us?"

"Oh, you should definitely look at this," Shirofuku said, leaning across the table to click on the newest note.

A picture opened up on Oikawa's phone. It was a picture taken in that very pizzeria they were in right now - Oikawa had his head pressed against the table, looking as melodramatic as possible, while Shirofuku and Misaki both looked right into the camera, showing peace signs. In the background, Akaashi mimicked them, except that his face was as stoic as usual.

"Seriously?" Oikawa screeched, turning around to where the picture was obviously taken from. A bunch of freshmen boys immediately let their cameras sink under their table, looking in the opposite direction.

Oikawa ruffled his hair in frustration. He didn't usually mind the fame - he had a lot of privileges thanks to it - beginning with the fact that he never had to study, because he could exchange make-outs for papers.

Yes, some people would write entire papers on philosophy to have Oikawa make out with them in some dirty club, just so they could belong to the in-crowd. It was kind of crazy, but Oikawa wasn't going to complain.

Except now. Now he complained long and loud.

"A little bit of privacy here and there wouldn't hurt," he whined, wishing for his beloved paper bag. "I never signed up for this whole thing. I wanted people to _want_ me, not to want me being with _Ushijima_!"

"When you're famous, every kind of press is good press," Shirofuku smirked. "Besides, you dug your own grave. No sympathy from us."

So that was all they would give him. A pat on the back, the advice to just go ahead and fuck it all up, and a picture on Oikawatch where it was very obvious that he was unrested and unshowered.

Oikawa really had the worst friends in the world.

 

"Everyone is so mean to me," he complained to Iwaizumi later that day, after he had finally caught up on some sleep. "When are you going to quit your studies and come back to me? I'm serious, I may die."

"Stop being so dramatic all the time," Iwaizumi chided. "It's not my job to look after you, I'm not your parent."

"Iwa-chan!"

"Besides, you're a grown man. You should be able to look after yourself."

"But I'm so lonely, Iwa-chan. Without you here, there's no one to boss me around." Oikawa turned in his bed so he was lying on his stomach, alien-print socks high in the air. It had to look like he was straight out of some nineties film scene. Why couldn't Oikawatch get a picture of this? Oikawa should start sending in some selfies. "Or rather, lots of people try to boss me around, but I can't take it from anyone but you."

"Are you rebelling against your pretend-parent?" Iwaizumi sighed. "Or is that just regular Shittykawa-behavior. I can't even tell anymore."

"We're so estranged!" Oikawa gasped. "What's happening to us?"

"We're growing up - more importantly, we're growing out of our co-dependency," Iwaizumi said. His voice was gruff, but Oikawa could tell that he was smiling. "We're learning to stand on our own two feet instead of going through life in a metaphorical two-men horse costume."

"Why do I have the feeling that I'm the butt?" Oikawa asked.

"Because you're an ass?"

"Or rather, you've been farting in my face too much and gassed my brain."

"It's possible," Iwaizumi said, surprisingly cordial."It _would_ explain a lot."

Oikawa just grumbled a bit, yearning for the conversation to become serious at some point. It was a pity that his generation wasn't able to express feelings without them being buried underneath a truckload of sarcasm and cynicism. Oikawa was the biggest offender concerning that trope, so he couldn't really blame Iwaizumi for not catching on. Still, he was kinda hoping that he didn't have to break down and cry before Iwaizumi realized that Oikawa really, really missed him.

"Hey, Shittykawa! You should eat some healthier things instead of pizza all the time."

"You should stop stalking me."

"You should stop _being stalked_."

"Way to blame the victim," Oikawa sniffed. "And just so you know, there were vegetables on that pizza."

"Tomatoes don't count, and neither do pineapples, because that's just _wrong_. Also, I hope you took a shower by now, because you looked like shit."

"I never look like shit," Oikawa said haughtily. "I am a natural beauty."

Iwaizumi didn't say anything to that, and Oikawa was content to just listen to his steady breathing for a minute, until he talked again.

"Where's Yahaba?" Iwaizumi asked. "I've been on the phone with you for over five minutes and he hasn't crashed your room yet. I'm starting to miss him."

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa howled, as if to actually summon Yahaba and Futakuchi. "You can say that you miss him, but you can't say that you miss _me?_ You really are a monster."

Iwaizumi was quiet again, except for an amused little huff.

"Oikawa," he said, finally. "That really doesn't need saying, does it?"

"It couldn't hurt," Oikawa grumbled. "I'm surrounded by emotional bricks. It's starting to take its toll on me."

"Neither me nor Ushijima are emotional bricks - we're just here to ground you," Iwaizumi said. "Speaking of Ushijima - Friday is coming closer and closer. Any plans yet?"

Oh. So _that_ was what Oikawa had been blending out so perfectly. He _thought_ he had been dreading something, but he had never been sure what.

"Fuck," he said, rubbing at his eyes. "No, I don't."

"How about you just stay at home for once? You know - to study?"

"Iwa-chan. You know me. I don't _need_ a plan. The plan will usually come to find me. So I can plan staying home all I want, but you know exactly that's not where I'm gonna end up."

Iwaizumi just gave a deep sigh.

He knew that Oikawa was right. All that was left was to be patient and wait for in what form the plan would come along.

 

It was a surprising form, to say the least.

That Friday, Oikawa stared at a message in his inbox, consisting of nothing but a song file.

It was 'Play Ball' by AC/DC. Ushijima was painfully blunt, even while expressing himself through music. Or maybe he had just been lazy this time. Before Oikawa knew what he was doing, he had dialed Ushijima's number.

"Hello."

"Ushiwaka-chan," Oikawa said, gritting his teeth. "Are you ever going to stop this?"

"It worked last time," Ushijima said. "I find that this form of talking to you creates less misunderstandings."

"How would it possibly lead to a misunderstanding if you just _asked_ me to train with you, like a normal person?"

"We would manage," was all Ushijima had to say to that, and Oikawa gave up with a long groan. "So, are you saying yes?"

"Am I..." Oikawa began, spluttering. "Ushiwaka-chan, you're asking me to spend my precious Friday night failing at giving you a perfect toss, instead of getting drunk and making out with a hot girl in my favorite club?"

"Yes?" Ushijima said, like he couldn't believe how Oikawa had troubles understanding him again.

God. Why did he have to be so... oblivious? It would have been cute if it hadn't been so annoying.

"Fine then," Oikawa said. To be honest, this was probably the next least dangerous thing after staying at home and studying. If he went to the club and made out with someone, he'd have a mob on his tail, trying to lynch him. At least training with Ushijima was productive, even if they ended up in the equipment room again. Which Oikawa would make sure _wouldn't happen_! 

“But don't think it will lead to the same thing as last time, okay? I'm just meeting you because I pity you for not having any plans on a Friday night. So don't get your hopes up.”

“I understand,” Ushijima said. “The gym is occupied until nine, so I'll meet you then.”

“Yes, and – Ushiwaka-chan? Wear something ugly!”

 

Heads were turning left and right when Oikawa walked over campus with his sports bag thrown over his shoulder. Some people even stopped to tell him that he was going in the wrong direction. It was exactly the time of day when everyone came out of their dorms to go meet their friends for some pre-drinking, or went to occupy a booth at the IceBreaker before the club was full. Oikawa could tell from the faint buzzing in his pants that there was an Oikawatch article already written about his strange behavior. 

“Leave him alone, he's having a private training session with Ushijima!” someone called out – it sounded a lot like Shirofuku's voice, but Oikawa didn't detect her among the crowd of people suddenly oooh-ing and aaah-ing around him. 

“I'm not!” he said aloud, but rolled his eyes at himself right after. It was pretty obvious what he was up to. “It's just training, nothing special.”

“Are you guys dating?” a girl asked him – she had made a U-turn as soon as she saw Oikawa and was now walking alongside him. He had no memory of ever talking to her before. 

“We're _not_ ,” Oikawa said, feeling like a star being interviewed. She held her phone in one hand – maybe the conversation was actually being recorded. “We're just trying to win our next match, and we are both people who don't shy away from hard work. If it's for the team, I'll even spend my beloved Friday night locked into the gym, even when I have a lovely girl such as you talking to me.” He winked at her and couldn't help but be a little smug when she blushed. 

“But you never seemed to like him before. So what changed?” she asked, catching herself. 

It sounded like this was his chance to give an official statement, so he stood still to think about it for a second.

“Well,” he said, giving one of his fake smiles. “You all know what happened last week. The incident was pretty well documented, after all. And let me tell you – for such an awkward simpleton, he is a surprisingly good kisser. I'm not one to hold a grudge once I've had someone's tongue in my mouth, but I'm also not someone to fall head over heels for a person just because they're a better kisser than I imagined. Things between me and Ushiwaka have always been complicated. And they're the kind of complications that can't just be undone by drunkenly making out in a club once - but they're definitely the kind of complications that need to be undone in order to build a perfect volleyball team, so that's what we've decided to concentrate on.”

The girl looked pretty happy to get such a long statement from him, so Oikawa gave her another wink and raised his hand for a wave.

“Anyway, I need to hurry now, or he'll think I ditched him. We don't want to make him cry, do we?”

“Have fun!” the girl called after him, Oikawa already off to navigate his way against the oncoming current of students. 

He was finally spat out from the crowd once he reached the pathway leading to the gym. One or two people were trailing behind him, but they wouldn't make it past the door, and even though the gym itself had huge windows, no one could look past the roller blinds. 

Ushijima opened the door as soon as Oikawa knocked. He was already dressed in his gym clothes, and Oikawa could see some balls rolling around in the background. Looked like Ushijima had already started to train without him. 

Oikawa quickly kicked the door shut behind himself, turning the key in the lock.

“Finally!” he breathed, leaning against the closed door. “This was a terrible idea. Every single person on campus saw me coming here.”

“That is bad?” Ushijima asked, furrowing his brows. “It should be good to see that you spend your free time with training instead of wasting it with carnal pleasures.”

“Hey!” Oikawa whipped around to give Ushijima a glare. “Thin ice, mister!” 

“Oh. Sorry.”

Oikawa cocked an eyebrow once he noticed what Ushijima was wearing. “So this is what you choose when I tell you to wear an ugly shirt?” he said, taking in Ushijima's appearance. He was dressed in his old Shiratorizawa jersey, except that it had become too small for him and fit so tightly that Oikawa could see every muscle. It was the exact opposite of what Oikawa had intended for an ugly shirt to do.

“You always told me this uniform looked ugly,” Ushijima said, looking down at himself. 

It took a lot of willpower for Oikawa not to face-palm. 

“Right,” he sighed, kicking off his shoes. “Whatever. I'll go change now. Try not to rip your shirt while I'm gone.”

He could hear balls flying through the gym even before he was out of the door, and he had to force himself not to look back and watch Ushijima's shirt ride up at every jump. He would probably still see that enough in the next few hours. 

Maybe today he would learn from past mistakes and actually go to the shower to jerk off before he went back into the gym, where Ushijima was prancing around with a shirt almost bursting at the seams. Then again, with Oikawa's luck, Ushijima would probably wonder where he was and go look for him while Oikawa was moaning in the showers. 

No, it was better to just grit his teeth and keep his urges under control. He was not a teenage boy anymore. He could _do this_. 

Oikawa took some deep breaths while he changed, hoping to step back into the gym with newfound inner peace. It worked at least a little bit. He didn't feel like ripping Ushijima's shirt apart with his own two hands once he went back and found Ushijima jumping up for a serve. 

“Don't waste all of your energy!” Oikawa said, throwing his knee supporter at Ushijima's head. “You still have a lot of jumping to do today.”

Ushijima gave him a thankful nod. 

“So,” said Oikawa. “Are you ready to get started?”

Another nod. 

“Good. Then _jump_.”

 

It didn't even take them half an hour before they managed another hit. This time, Ushijima still had all of his energy and the impact of the ball seemed to shake the whole building in its foundation. 

Oikawa wondered if the uncontrollable urge to kiss Ushijima after one of these quicks would ever subside, but at least he managed to keep it in his pants this time.

“We are going to _murder_ the competition!” Oikawa howled, fist thrust high in the air. “Ushiwaka-chan, this spike is absolutely insane. Not even the best blockers in the world could stop it. And even if they could, you'd probably break their hands.”

Ushijima's face was glowing – he wore the closest thing to a smile Oikawa had ever seen on his face. His eyes were on fire.

“I don't want to break anyone's hand,” he said, wiping his face with a towel.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “If they're clever, they won't try to stop you, then.”

Ushijima threw the towel away to the side and went to pick up another ball. “Again!” he said. It sounded like an order, but Oikawa kept his mouth shut for now – he was still on a high from their success and didn't feel like yelling at Ushijima quite yet.

They fell back into their routine – Ushijima passing the ball to Oikawa, running up, and jumping while Oikawa tried to send the ball to the exact spot Ushijima's hand slammed down.

He started to really get a feel for the distance and timing, and the toss started to work, slowly, but surely. It was nowhere near perfect, of course, and wouldn't be of much use in a real match yet. They hadn't even tried to change up the positions – Oikawa always set the ball to the same spot, always got the toss from the same spot, and the usual chaos was missing – the other people on the field, the noise in the background, the nervous fluttering in his stomach that had never really left him, even though he should be used to it by now. 

At the end of their session, they'd already managed to hit the quick more times than not. The initial feeling of triumph had changed to determination – it was nice to see hours of training working out, even if it was slow. But they knew that they still had a lot of progress to make before they could actually use this move. 

Ushijima was just collecting all the balls from the floor, dumping them into the wagon, when he suddenly turned to Oikawa and asked: “Would you like to come back to my place?”

Oikawa almost stumbled over the open shoelace he was just about to re-tie. 

“Excuse me?”

“I found some coffee I thought you might like in the shop yesterday. It's caramel-flavored,” Ushijima said casually, as if he hadn't just asked Oikawa to come over on a Friday night to 'drink coffee' in his room. 

“You can't be serious!” Oikawa said. “What do you think would happen if people saw me go to your room tonight?”

Ushijima busied himself with picking up a few more balls before he decided to speak what was on his mind.

“You shouldn't care so much what other people think,” he said. “I've been in magazines even before I entered high school. I haven't read a single article.”

“Oh, I'm sorry!” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Nice casual mention that you're in magazines, by the way. But you can't really compare our levels of fame. Who even reads volleyball magazines, except for volleyball fans? I have the _whole university_ watching my every move. The people I see and interact with every day. And I don't want them to start meddling with my life any more than they already do. So I'm sorry that I don't want them to think there's something between us, because I will never have a quiet moment again, no matter how hard I try to ignore everyone's opinions.”

Ushijima just dropped the last ball into the wagon, furrowing his brows again. Good, so he had caught on to the side blow of him ignoring other people's opinions and feelings. 

“You could tell them that we're friends,” Ushijima said, like solutions were always so _easy_.

“Oh, I already did. Let's see how that worked.” Oikawa was already standing at the wall, where he had placed his water bottle, towel and phone. He had been sure to hear some more vibrating coming from the phone while they were training, and indeed, the Oikawatch app was alive.

The first sentence Oikawa read, went as follows:

**Oikawa Tooru about Ushijima Wakatoshi: He is a surprisingly good kisser.**

Of fucking _course_!

Oikawa didn't really want to read the rest, but then his eyes were already flying over the article.

_On his way to the gym, where Oikawa and Ushijima intend to spend this history-making Friday night, Oikawa talks about his relationships with Ushijima, and how they want to concentrate on undoing all complications._

_Well, my dear boys and girls – it seems like Oikawa will be off the market soon. But let's be honest – we all wondered when the time would come. He is too cute to be single for so long, and with Ushijima, he may have found someone who can actually keep up with him in terms of looks and fame. So let's try not to be too sad about it. Things would have never worked out between you and Oikawa anyway, folks. He lives in a different world. The kind of world only the likes of Ushijima Wakatoshi can reach._

_So hold on to your Toorubears, my dear people – I don't think there will be any more of them in the near future. And remember:_

_you're being oikawatched._

_xoxo_

Ushijima had materialized at Oikawa's side and was reading the article over his shoulder, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

“It seems to me like they are already convinced we are involved romantically,” Ushijima said, once he had finished reading. “So it doesn't matter how it looks when you come to drink coffee at my place.”

Oikawa let the phone sink down. For a moment, he was speechless. Then, surprisingly, the sound that came out of his mouth was a laugh. 

“I gotta say, Ushiwaka-chan. Sometimes, you are surprisingly smooth.”

Ushijima concentrated on the important things. “So is that a yes?”

Oikawa didn't have to think about it too long. The thing was; he actually _wanted_ to go with Ushijima. Not to do anything he shouldn't, but to drink the coffee Ushijima had bought just for him, and to discover some more interesting details about him, and to experience that strange phenomenon where he was talking to Ushijima for a generous amount of time without getting angry. 

“Fine, I'll come with you. But I'm warning you – don't expect anything you shouldn't expect, okay?”

“I won't,” Ushijima promised. “I am very content with being your friend, Oikawa. It is already more than I ever dared to hope.”

Oikawa just nodded – he didn't really know what to say to that. “Let's just go and shower,” he said. 

There would be a million cameras pointed at them as soon as they stepped out of the gym, so at least they needed to look good.

Like the A-list Hollywood couple they supposedly were. 

 

They survived the walk to Ushijima's dorm somehow, even though it looked like some people had actually camped outside the closed gym door. They acted as if it was a perfect spot for sitting on a picnic blanket to drink wine and play twister, but Oikawa knew that they wouldn't be here if it weren't for him.

He tried to keep a generous distance between Ushijima and himself, and talked as little as possible so they wouldn't seem too close. Most people they passed were drunk and more occupied with finding a suitable bush to puke into than play paparazzi. And even those who had the presence of mind to snap a picture probably only caught a blurry mess. It wouldn't be easy for Oikawatch to turn this into something romantic; that much was clear.

Still, Oikawa was glad once he entered Ushijima's room and could let a door fall between himself and his fans. Not that he _minded_ having fans. The problem was just that they were entirely too unpredictable. Oikawa wanted to be desired, not shipped with his old rival. Now he didn't have the upper hand anymore. He couldn't buy favors with Toorubears - God, he would have to write all of his own papers in the future. Fans could be so cruel.

"Do you have a shot of something that'll go with the coffee?" Oikawa moaned, falling into Ushijima's bed like he was at home here. He immediately collided with a huge Toorubear.

"Hey!" he shrieked. "You didn't throw it out!"

"You never gave a deadline." Ushijima just shrugged, and opened the cabinet where he kept his coffee. "Also, I'm sorry, I don't have any alcohol here."

"Ugh!" Oikawa whined, burying his head in the Toorubear's belly. "You really are useless. I don't even know why I came with you."

The reason became clear soon, when the smell of fresh coffee wafted through the room, and Oikawa freed his face from the furry belly. Ushijima was standing at his kitchen counter, concentration written on his face as he used his futuristic looking milk frother to create delicious foam. There was also an assortment of different syrups hiding in the cabinet - he used the caramel one to draw a little pattern on top of the foam.

Oikawa slowly got up from the bed, walking over to look over Ushijima's shoulder in wonder.

"Oh man, that looks amazing."

"I thought this would be more to your liking than the type of coffee I usually drink," Ushijima said. "I often see you with those big cups from the coffee shop down the street."

"Oh, I didn't know you were stalking me, too," Oikawa said, teasingly pushing Ushijima with his hips.

"You merely manage to catch my gaze a lot."

Oikawa couldn't help but laugh at that - the way Ushijima said it was just too amusing. Like it was a simple fact and he wasn't even embarrassed to admit it.

"Wow, you really do like me a lot, huh?" he smirked, snatching the coffee from out of Ushijima's hand as soon as he was done. The first sip was so heavenly, Oikawa almost started to feel bitter. "I wouldn't have taken you for a shallow person, but when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. You only respond to what's perfect on the outside and you have no regard for deeper stuff."

Ushijima sent him a curious look, apparently not catching on.

"You shouldn't like people just because they're good-looking. You'll have your heart broken, and I refuse to take any responsibility. I never lied about having a rotten personality, after all."

"I'm not sure I understand," Ushijima said, turning back to the coffee machine to make a cup for himself. Looked like Oikawa's bad habits were already catching on. "How exactly is your personality rotten?"

Oikawa wondered if Ushijima was messing with him on purpose, but that wouldn't be very Ushijima-like. Still, if he actually hadn't realized that Oikawa had been nothing but an ass to him for _years_ , then Oikawa would probably be disappointed.

"Are you kidding? I mean - I love the way I am, but even I have to admit that I can be pretty narcissistic."

"There is only one personality trait that I can't stand," Ushijima said. His coffee was done, and he turned around with the cup in his hands, not adding anything to it. "And that is baseless self-confidence."

Okay... Oikawa wasn't really sure what that was supposed to mean.

"I think every person has the right to be proud of their achievements," Ushijima continued, taking a slow sip. "Your pride is not baseless. You are beautiful, you are strong, you are smart, you are incredible with social situations, you have a wide array of different talents. Everyone adores you, everyone admires you - even the ones who don't like you for your personality can't lie about your genius as a setter. All this is worthy of pride. You have every right to be self-centered, because your mere existence is a gift to those around you. You don't owe them anything more."

Oikawa had to take a huge sip to justify his mouth being wide open.

"I don't like you for your looks, Oikawa. I like you because you are the most amazing person I've ever met."

Again, he was stating it like such a simple fact. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Oikawa had no reason to look into his mirror day after day and wonder, for just a split second, _'What am I doing?'_. As if he wasn't borderline prostituting himself to make other people write papers for a major he wasn't even actually interested in. As if he wasn't afraid of driving his body to the breaking point before he achieved anything real, but being unable to stop. As if a website full of people stalking him for his embarrassing behavior was something for show.

Oikawa quickly shook his head to snap out of it.

"You always told me my pride was insignificant," he said, talking into the milk foam. "So what - you changed your mind?"

"You proved me wrong, didn't you?" Ushijima said. "In the end, the results are the only things that matter. You and I ended up at the exact same place - we just took different routes to get there. But it seems like both routes were the right ones for us."

Alright - so this little visit to Ushijima's room turned out to be pretty eye-opening. Now Oikawa was glad that he hadn't turned him down earlier.

Plus, the coffee was heaven.

"I think I really do start to understand your thought-process," he pondered, watching Ushijima carefully. "Well, that's no surprise, because it's pretty simple. Don't think I forgive you for all the things you've said to me - you're still not sorry for them - you still think that Aoba Johsai was a team unworthy of me. You still try to set me apart from them, as if we haven't been one, beautiful, imperfect metabolism. I know you haven't changed in the least."

Ushijima didn't break eye-contact with him.

"You are right," he said. "Is that a problem for you?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I haven't seen every side of you then, and I still haven't seen every side of you now. And I'll be honest - I'm interested in finding out more. I'm especially interested in seeing you frustrated, just once. Is that a problem for _you?"_

"No," Ushijima said.

"Good." Oikawa stood, suddenly, leaving the coffee half-drunken on the table, grabbing his bag. He needed to go. He needed to be alone. He was too full of thoughts.

Before he left, he turned back to watch Ushijima silently watch him.

"Tomorrow," Oikawa said, "you will take me on a date. It's the only chance you get. I won't give you any prep time. Come get me at 8 o'clock in the morning. Take me somewhere where no one will be able to bother us. And there's one requirement: You have to surprise me. I'm way too good at reading people, and you're way too easy to read - this would be the most boring relationship for me, if you can't even surprise me. I don't want any simple cinema date or restaurant dinner, do you understand? I want you to show me exactly what you have to offer."

Ushijima just nodded, and Oikawa could easily see that he was overwhelmed, even though he looked as stoic as usual.

"Okay then, I'll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Ushiwaka-chan."

He left the room with a last flash of teeth, unsure if it came out as a smile or a warning. Somehow, his whole body seemed to be vibrating. It felt like ants were walking all over the soles of his feet, and he had trouble not skipping on the way home.

So he had a date with Ushijima.

Maybe that was stupid - who knew. But it had come from another place of Oikawa's unconscious than all the times he had felt the urge to kiss Ushijima. This time, sexual attraction had nothing to do with it. Oikawa was either going to the next level with Ushijima, or he would finally become bored of him.

There was something soothing about the thought that he would actually move on in some way. Oikawa hated standing still anyway. He didn't want to just suppress these ill-advised urges forever. Urges that were probably born from some basic instincts and would disappear as soon as Oikawa managed to paint that flawless body with an actual personality.

Lately, Ushijima had managed to make Oikawa think he was cute in his awkwardness. But today, Oikawa had found out that he was not some poor, misunderstood creature that Oikawa was accidentally trampling over. Ushijima had a very limited world view. Maybe he was something like a social Darwinist - Oikawa would know better if he had actually ever opened one of his philosophy books, but whatever. It sounded right. Ushijima the social Darwinist. What an asshole. What a piece of trash.

The good thing was; it didn't matter whether or not you accidentally broke something that was already trash.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yesss i'm finally updating! :DDD sorry for the long wait, you guys! Hope it was more or less worth it^^

That night, Oikawa slept like a log. 

Either Ushijima had bought a kind of coffee that had no caffeine whatsoever in it, or Oikawa had finally become immune. In any case, he didn't complain when he woke up so well rested that he was humming before he even rolled out of his bed.

Iwaizumi wasn't up yet, so Oikawa left him a long voicemail while he made himself some more coffee and cornflakes. 

In the middle of his story, the phone suddenly vibrated with a text from Ushijima.

_Please wear sturdy clothes that cover your whole body._

Oikawa excitedly read it aloud.

“What the fuck is he planning?” he asked. “It's so warm outside, why would I wear something that will make me sweat on a date?”

Iwaizumi didn't say anything, because he wasn't there, and Oikawa's only answer was the crunching sound his cornflakes made.

“Shit, I can't even think of anything...”

He quickly finished his breakfast, seeing as it was almost time for Ushijima to come get him, and he wasn't even dressed yet. His one-sided talk with Iwaizumi had distracted him. 

“Anyway, Iwa-chan, I need to hurry now. I'll call you later and tell you how it turned out, okay?” he said into the phone, already ripping open his closet. “Or who knows, maybe I'll call you in five minutes to tell you I dumped him, because he wanted to take me on a stupid date. I swear, if it has anything to do with volleyball...”

There was a knock on his door, and Oikawa almost dropped the phone in his surprise. 

“Oh shit, he's already here. Okay, Iwa-chan, I'm off now. Try not to think of me the whole day, 'kay? Love you, bye-bee!”

Oikawa stumbled over some books and clothes strewn over his floor – the sudden knock made him inexplicably nervous. He was aware that his hair was still tousled from sleep, and that he was still wearing his pajamas. He was even more aware of it once he opened the door to a leather-jacket wearing Ushijima.

“Holy shit!” 

It just slipped out of him before he could stop it, so it was too late to act like he wasn't surprised. Oh well then, there was no point in trying not to ogle him too obviously. Black boots, black jeans, black leather-jacket, and a purple shirt – it looked entirely too good on him, but it was not weather-appropriate at all.

“Are you trying to surprise me by wearing illogical things, Ushiwaka-chan?” he asked, stepping away from the door as a sign that he should come inside. It was better not to have anyone see him here, even though everyone was still asleep. 

"You are also not appropriately dressed," Ushijima told him. "Have you not read my text?"

"I was _busy_!" Oikawa lied, stumbling back towards his closet.

Ushijima awkwardly kept standing in front of his door, until Oikawa asked if he was a vampire who needed to be invited in.

"And close the door behind you. I don't want anyone to see us," he added, head already buried deep in his closet. He had pushed all his warmer clothes into the far back, and now he couldn't find anything.

"Do you have any long jeans?" Ushijima asked, finally gaining enough confidence to walk through the room and stand next to Oikawa, looking into the closet. "What about those back there?"

"That's a jeans jacket," Oikawa said, taking the jacket out and throwing it onto his bed.

"And those?"

"That's a jeans backpack."

"You have a-"

"Yes, and before you ask, that other thing is a jeans poncho - see?" He grabbed the poncho and unfolded it for Ushijima to see. Its collar was adorned by two white pompoms.

Ushijima looked at it in silent horror.

"Oikawa," he said after a while. "Could it be that you have a really bad fashion sense?"

"I try to only wear the clothes I bought when there were other people around to keep me in check," Oikawa admitted. He wasn't sure why he was telling Ushijima this, to be honest. Somehow, ever since Ushijima had told Oikawa how perfect he was, Oikawa felt like proving the opposite to him. "You said it yourself, didn't you? I tend to go overboard with everything."

Ushijima looked like that little fact amused him, so Oikawa pushed the poncho over his head in revenge.

"Don't laugh at me, idiot! You're here to take me out, aren't you? Try and be a gentleman for once."

"Here..." Ushijima reached past Oikawa's head to pull an actual pair of jeans out of the closet. "These should do."

It took a while until Ushijima was happy with Oikawa's outfit. He insisted on Oikawa wearing sturdy boots, even though they looked stupid, and then he put something around Oikawa's middle that looked like a spine protector.

"What the hell are you planning to do with me?"

"I thought you wanted to be surprised."

"This just looks _dangerous_!" Oikawa protested, quieting as soon as the words left his mouth. Actually, Ushijima doing something dangerous was more than surprising. Sure, it wasn't surprising that he took every precaution to not let anything happen to Oikawa, yet the fact remained. Oikawa was excited to find out what the big mystery was.

"You like dangerous things, don't you?" Ushijima said. "And you want to learn something new about me. I was able to create the most ideal date based on those facts."

Of fucking course he was. Oikawa had a hard time not to roll his eyes. "Whatever," he said, turning to the bathroom. "Just let me do my hair real quick, and we can go."

"You don't need to do anything with your hair. It will be ruined in only two minutes."

Oikawa almost insisted on doing it anyway, because he felt like being difficult, but then Ushijima had already gone to open the door, and Oikawa couldn't let him stand there when people could come out into the hallway any second.

"Rocky start," he informed Ushijima on his way out. "You really need to up your efforts, if you want this to lead anywhere."

Ushijima didn't react to that, just silently led Oikawa down the stairs and towards the exit. Once they stood outside, the whole building was shaken by a loud roar.

"What the fuck!" Oikawa screeched, turning to look at the offending noise. "What the FUCK!" he repeated, once his brain had processed what he saw there.

It was Tendou. Tendou Satori, Ushijima's ex-teammate from Shiratorizawa. And he was sitting on a pitch black motorcycle, grinning like a madman.

"Do _not_ tell me that this guy has anything to do with our date!" Oikawa yelled, already half turning to go back inside before everyone looked out of their windows to find out where all the noise came from. Ushijima quickly reached out an arm to keep him back.

"He just lent me his motorcycle," Ushijima explained, walking towards his old friend for a handshake. "Mine is still back in Miyagi, but Tendou doesn't live too far away, so he was able to deliver it in time."

Oikawa felt like his head was reeling.

"You can ride a motorcycle," he said, secretly pinching himself, just to be sure. "You, Ushijima Safety-Freak Wakatoshi, know how to ride a motorcycle!"

"Tendou can be very convincing, once he gets an idea stuck in his brain," Ushijima said, shrugging. "And he wanted us to learn it together."

"And we had such a fun time, too," Tendou smirked, patting Ushijima's head. "I'm pretty sure I saw you crying at one point, Wakatoshi."

"I never cried," Ushijima said earnestly. Oikawa wondered if he meant the time Tendou was referring to, or his entire life.

"I wanna make you cry," Oikawa whispered, more to himself, but Tendou heard him anyway, and started to laugh like a maniac.

"Good luck with that. Also - catch!"

Oikawa was lucky to have quick reflexes, because there was a huge helmet suddenly flying his way.

"And this, too!" Tendou said, throwing something else, with less impact. It was a motorcycle jacket, which looked way too warm for this weather, but Oikawa already knew that Ushijima wouldn't let him ride without it, so he put both helmet and jacket on with no protest.

"Don't break any of it!" Tendou warned. "I still need those things to get back home. And don't take too long - snooping through Wakatoshi's room will only be entertaining for a short time. I already know him too well."

So Tendou was staying at Ushijima's place while they were gone with his motorcycle. Oikawa really hoped he didn't know what a Toorubear was. If he were at Iwaizumi's place and found out there were stuffed animals going around to signify that someone made out with Iwaizumi's new boyfriend, Oikawa would probably kill the guy. 

However, Oikawa wasn't given much time to worry about it, because Ushijima was already climbing onto the motorcycle. 

Oikawa had never expected him to look so _natural_ on it. But Ushijima was a big guy, a strong guy – having a powerful machine such as this one between his legs was just something he was used to.

Ugh! Something was seriously wrong here – usually, Oikawa didn't think much about what he said, and he was not easily embarrassed. Yet now he was blushing from his thoughts alone. He really needed to concentrate on keeping his mouth shut, in case it would betray him now.

“Have fun, you two!” Tendou sang, spinning Ushijima's key with his finger. “Don't forget to use protection.”

“It's alright, I gave him your spine protector,” Ushijima said, turning the key in the ignition. He never noticed Oikawa and Tendou staring at him like they couldn't believe the things that came out of his mouth sometimes.

“You're as funny as ever, Wakatoshi!” Tendou finally laughed, giving one last wave before he turned to walk away in the direction of Ushijima's dorm building. “I'll see you later!”

Ushijima waved after Tendou before he turned to give Oikawa a quizzical look.

“Are you coming?” he asked, probably wondering why Oikawa was just staring at him.

It was embarrassing, really. But seeing Ushijima on that motorcycle was really... _hot_. It was hard to snap himself out of it, but he managed to stutter a confirmation.

“I... Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

Oikawa had never sat on a motorcycle before, so he wasn't sure what to do. Ushijima patiently showed him where to rest his feet and repeated multiple times to hold on _tight_ , and not let go, even when they were standing at a stop light.

“And never put your feet down – that's very important. And never-”

“Alright!” Oikawa interrupted him, noticing more and more faces appearing in the windows around them. “Are you just going to talk all morning, or are you going to take me on a _date_?”

He didn't need to say more. Ushijima finally put on his own helmet, and revved up the engine, letting the motorcycle roar for a second before he released the clutch and they finally drove away. 

So he was being a little show-off just for Oikawa. Tendou probably gave him the tip. But Oikawa couldn't make fun of him for it, because they wouldn't be able to talk as long as they were driving, even though it was pretty slow in the beginning. Ushijima carefully navigated them off the campus and into the city traffic. 

It didn't start out as a very exciting experience. Sure, sitting on a motorcycle felt kinda cool, but it was not much different from sitting in a car, when you had to stop at a crossroads or stop light every few minutes. A car would have been more comfortable, because it didn't require you to wear the same kind of stuffy gear in this heat.

But after a while, they finally reached the highway, and from that moment on, Oikawa would never be the same as before.

From one second to the next, he was _alive_. 

He had never felt like this before. He had never known how long it took a car to accelerate. He had never known what speed even was. There was a huge wall of wind pressing against him from one second to the next, and it was blowing his head right empty, except for a feeling of pure and utter joy. 

He wondered if Ushijima could hear him scream. 

Probably not. Oikawa couldn't even hear himself scream. The wind had such an overwhelming presence that it was everything Oikawa could hear. He felt that if he relaxed his grip on Ushijima even just a little bit, he would fly away like a kite. 

The world around him just passed by in a blur. He could see the buildings getting fewer and fewer, being replaced by open fields, some lakes, some forests. Where was Ushijima even taking him? Oikawa wouldn't mind never getting there, because this feeling alone was better than any date he could think of. 

This moment was freedom. Oikawa closed his eyes, just listening to the wind roar around him. He could feel the motorcycle shift as Ushijima zoomed past the cars around them. How was Ushijima even able to hold on? Oikawa already felt like he could be blown away at any time, but Ushijima got the actual brunt of the wind's power. It would have been impressive, had Oikawa been able to concentrate on anything but the feeling of going at the speed of light. 

After a while, Ushijima turned off at an exit, slowing down, and Oikawa could finally think again. He was breathing hard from all the screaming. If they hadn't worn helmets right now, Oikawa wouldn't have been able to resist kissing Ushijima's neck. There was something inside him that just needed to express itself through touch, as much of it as possible. But all he could do right now was hold on to Ushijima, press against his broad back, and hope that they would finally reach their destination so that Oikawa could let go of all the sudden voltage humming under his skin.

They were on a small road leading into the fields, not a single car to be seen around them. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of anything they could be doing out here. Not that Oikawa would complain – at this point, he'd be happy to simply pull Ushijima into a corn field and rip his clothes off. 

He really needed to get that under control before Ushijima stopped the bike. Yet his skin was tingling, his head was reeling, and he felt drunk, but the best kind of drunk. 

He didn't have anything under control when Ushijima stopped at the side of the road, between two fields, and took off his helmet to draw one hand through flattened hair.

Oikawa had to fumble with his own helmet quite a bit, but he finally managed, letting it drop without giving it another thought. His whole body was trembling, but he still managed to shrug out of his jacket, which gave him a lot more space to move. Ushijima was only just turning around to him, and Oikawa had his face in his hands before either of them could say a word.

“How did-” Ushijima started, immediately muted by Oikawa's mouth. 

_Finally_. Oikawa fed Ushijima's mouth with a long, shuddering breath. His whole body was on fire. He couldn't be too close to Ushijima right now, so he climbed over him, without breaking the kiss, until he sat in Ushijima's lap, hands trying to touch everywhere at once. He needed more, or he would explode soon. Everything was hot – the sun was so, so hot, his clothes were so, so hot, and even Ushijima's surprised little grunt was hot. 

Oikawa finally got his trembling hands under enough control to open the zipper of Ushijima’s leather jacket, pushing it over his shoulder and unintentionally creating a manacle for Ushijima’s arms, which were still stuck in the sleeves. Oikawa’s hands wandered down to open Ushijima’s jeans as well, and he was barely stopped, because Ushijima had to shrug out of his jacket before he could keep him from going too far. They didn’t stop kissing, not even for a second, not even when their hands battled over Ushijima’s jeans, and they almost toppled off the motorcycle. Oikawa didn’t feel like disconnecting their mouths just to yell, that would be such a waste.

Finally, Ushijima managed to grab him by the shoulders and forcibly tear them apart. His eyes were wild with want, Oikawa could see it clearly, so why did he have to stop now?

“Oikawa, please calm down. It’s just the endorphins. Mixed with a little adrenaline, probably. Also, you have always been prone to let your emotions overflow – but this isn’t the right place and time for this.”

Oikawa couldn’t find the proper response to that, so he just kept breathing loudly, hoping his eyes would bore a hole through Ushijima’s skull.

“I bought a fresh loaf of milkbread before I came to get you – if we’re lucky, it’s still warm,” Ushijima said, sounding like he was trying to use a calming tone of voice but sounding as gruff as usual.

Was he for fucking real? Mentioning freshly baked milkbread was _not_ the way to make Oikawa’s urges disappear. Oikawa had to keep himself from spitting a hysterical laugh in Ushijima’s face. This guy was getting on his nerves so much that Oikawa couldn’t tell if he wanted to hit him or fuck him. He felt like he was losing his mind.

“Could you please climb down from me?” Ushijima said. “I’d like to show you something.”

Oikawa was leaning more and more in the direction of hitting.

“Give me the milkbread!” he ordered, finally able to form words again. “Give it to me, or I’ll hit you!”

“You…” Ushijima seemed confused. “You don’t have to threaten me for it, I bought it specifically for you.”

The urge to hit grew even stronger. Oikawa could practically feel his fist twitch.

“Anyway, I can’t give it to you if you don’t get off me, because I can’t open the motorcycle’s-“

Oikawa just couldn’t listen to him talk anymore, so he actually hit him.

It was with his mouth, but it still counted.

Yes, it still counted!

“I fucking hate you,” Oikawa panted, once he gained enough common sense to part their lips. “What are you _doing_ to me? This is not at all how I expected today to go.”

“How did you expect today to go?”

“I expected to be _bored_ ,” Oikawa admitted. “To be honest, I even _wanted_ to be bored, because it would have made it so much easier to get over you. Don’t you understand that I want you to fail?”

Ushijima looked thoughtful for a moment, then he said: “Looks like there's a clash of interests then. I have no intention of failing.”

“Great, now I feel like I’m losing to you again,” Oikawa moaned. At least he had lost most of that weird post-motorcycle high he had been on, and was able to actually climb out of Ushijima’s lap.

They left the motorcycle parked at the side of the road, where it wouldn’t get in anyone’s way, and Ushijima unpacked a picnic blanket and a huge loaf of milkbread from the underseat storage. The smell hit Oikawa like the wall of wind when they had driven onto the highway, and he almost started to drool.

How Ushijima had managed to take him on a perfect date on such short notice was beyond him. No one would ever be able to top this.

No one except Ushijima himself.

“What the-“ Oikawa started, once Ushijima walked over to the corn field and pushed some of the plants aside. Behind it, instead of row after row of healthy corn, the plants were flattened as if something big had pushed them into the earth.

“The farmer this field belongs to is a friend of my uncle’s,” Ushijima explained, waving for Oikawa to follow him into the field. “My uncle told me about these weird circles showing up in his crops, hoping that I could give an explanation, but so far, I have no idea what could have done it. But I thought that you would enjoy this type of thing.”

Oikawa was speechless. Mostly because this felt like walking on holy ground, but also because Ushijima had just boxed every breath out of him with this.

“The only thing,” he said, swallowing. He glanced up into the sky, almost afraid of what he was going to see there. “The only thing that could make this date better is if an UFO came down and kidnapped us. Then, I promise, I would marry you.”

Ushijima gave an almost amused huff as he unfolded the picnic blanket on the ground.

“I think that’s a very unlikely scenario,” he said.

“Who cares what you think?” Oikawa took three more steps into the ring, only now noticing little branches extracting from it. “Holy shit. Is this a whole _maze_?”

“It’s quite big,” Ushijima said. “We can go explore, if you want to.”

Oikawa just nodded distractedly, until he felt Ushijima push something soft and warm into his hands. “You should eat it now, before it gets cold,” Ushijima said.

It was a piece of the milkbread. When Oikawa bit into it, it felt like he had died and gone to heaven. He almost broke into tears.

“Whatever you do, Ushiwaka-chan – don’t follow me. I need to be alone now!” he said dramatically, walking towards one of the branches. “I can’t guarantee for behaving like a human in the next hour or so. Please just stay away from me until then.”

“Uhm… alright, if that’s what you want?” Ushijima said. His fuzzy eyebrows did their cute little dance, insinuating that he was confused. Oikawa had to forcibly tear his eyes away. “But make sure not to get lost – take your phone with you. I will… I will just wait here, I guess.”

Oikawa disappeared into one of the branches before he could change his mind and jump Ushijima again.

The branch led him through a dense field for a few steps, until he saw another opening at the end of it. This circle was even bigger than the one before. Oikawa turned to check if Ushijima had really stayed behind, but he couldn’t see or hear anything. Oikawa was left to his own devices, able to let go of all earthly connections and just concentrate on taking it all in.

Even this little detail, that Ushijima had left him alone, was so incredibly perfect that Oikawa would have liked to puke into the crop circle, if it hadn’t been sacred.

There were three branches leading away from the circle, and he had a hard time deciding which one he should take, until he settled for the middle one.

He had no idea how long he spent doing this, in the end. He was so in his element, munching on fresh milkbread and inspecting a _real life crop circle_! His heart was pounding all the way through, every time he thought he noticed something out of the ordinary – as ordinary as a crop circle could get anyway. He felt like a space detective. He was so _alive_.

After a while, he couldn’t take it anymore – he had to call Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan!” he howled, surprised that his best friend had taken his call after the very first ring. “Iwa-chan, you’ll never guess-“

“SPEAK!” Iwaizumi barked at the other end. “WHAT IS GOING ON? WHERE DID HE TAKE YOU? HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?”

“Oh my!” Oikawa suddenly had to laugh. “You were on pins and needles ever since I left you that voicemail, weren’t you?”

“OIKAWA!”

Oikawa was glad that he wasn’t standing across from Iwaizumi right now, because it sounded like he was spitting.

“IF YOU DON’T TELL ME _EVERYTHING_ -“

“Calm down!” Oikawa said, sitting down in the middle of the crop circle and looking up into the sky, not wanting to miss anything that was going on up there. “I am – as of this very moment – as close as I’ve ever been to being kidnapped by aliens.”

Angry, heavy breathing was the only thing coming out of his phone for a minute.

Then, Iwaizumi changed his yelling into a much more dangerous, calm tone of voice. “If you don’t start making sense right now-“

“I’m sitting in the middle of a crop circle,” Oikawa interrupted him. “That’s the date Ushijima took me on. He took me to a… Iwaizumi! HE TOOK ME TO A-“

“I TOLD YOU HE WAS A GOOD GUY!”

“NO! NO, THAT DOESN’T COUNT! THIS IS TOO GOOD! THIS IS UNREAL!” Oikawa yelled back, not really caring whether Ushijima overheard his call. “I DEMAND COMPENSATION! BECAUSE OF ALL OF YOUR STUPID TIPS I GAVE HIM A CHANCE AND NOW I’M FUCKED!”

“THAT WAS THE BEST POSSIBLE OUTCOME, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT!”

“NO IT WAS NOT! THE BEST POSSIBLE OUTCOME WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR ME TO REALIZE HE’S TOO BORING FOR ME!”

“You really want me to fly over just so I can kick your ass, don’t you?” Iwaizumi growled. “That’s why you’re being such a shithead right now, isn’t it?”

“But Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, rolling around in the flattened corn. “Relationships are so complicated. I don’t wanna be in one!”

He could already picture Iwaizumi burying his angry red face in his mattress until he almost choked. It was one of the things he did to calm down. Apparently, Oikawa could be so annoying that Iwaizumi needed a near-death experience to distract himself from wanting to rip his best friend's head off.

And indeed, when Iwaizumi spoke again, he sounded pretty breathless.

“Nobody is forcing you to be in a relationship,” he ground out. “You went on a date with Ushiwaka, because you started to _like_ him. Dating someone you like is just a normal thing to do – much more normal than just ignoring it and continue making out with random people in random night clubs, okay?”

“But I don't want to be _normal_!” Oikawa protested. “I want to stand out from all the boring normal people!”

“Then isn't Ushiwaka the best possible thing that could happen to you?”

Alright, true – there was really no way to _not_ stand out from a crowd when he was with Ushijima. He had even seen it on the pictures from that one Friday night in the IceBreaker. And ever since that night, people seemed to follow him around even more than usual. He really was the star of the whole university.

“But...” Oikawa said weakly. “It's _Ushiwaka_!”

“You have some issues to work on, that much is clear...” Iwaizumi sighed on the other end. He seemed to have finally calmed down. “But that shouldn't keep you from getting to know him better. It can only help, actually. Just... give him a chance and then see if it works out or not. You'll probably find that he's a much better person off the volleyball court.”

Oikawa sat up again, brushing a bit of dirt off his clothes. “Iwa-chan,” he said. “Could it be that you're in cahoots with those vile lesbians?”

“I don't know any vile lesbians,” Iwaizumi said. “Or did you mean Makki and Mattsun?”

Oikawa cackled. “No, they would never tell me to start dating Ushiwaka, because they're the only people with common sense in my life.”

“Makki and Mattsun,” Iwaizumi repeated, incredulous. “What kind of _friends_ do you even have at that awful university?”

“Only bad ones,” Oikawa said grimly. “Only bad ones, Iwa-chan!”

He could hear Iwaizumi trying to keep in a laugh, knowing fully well that Oikawa didn't actually hate his friends but needed to be as dramatic as possible at all times.

“Right, and your date is also awful, no matter how great he makes you feel,” he said. “Where is he anyway? Did you offer him to the aliens already?”

“I would _never_!” Oikawa said, scandalized. “I love aliens, why would I want to burden them with the likes of Ushiwaka?”

“Just go back already!” Iwaizumi chided. “Don't ditch him in the middle of a corn field!”

“You're right, I'd be so mad if the aliens went for him instead of me. They'd probably think he's some robot and steal him to investigate the human standard of technology.”

Iwaizumi gave a long-suffering sigh at the other end.

“Whatever,” he finally said. “Just... try to wait with the anal probing, okay?”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa screeched, but Iwaizumi was already chuckling a goodbye, so Oikawa quickly made a kissy sound into the phone.

“Buh-bye, you rotten friend!” he said. Iwaizumi had already ended the call, so there was nothing left for him to do except to send a last hopeful glance into the sky, and then go to find his way back.

The maze really was huge – Oikawa tried to jump, but there was no way for him to see over the corn plants, so he just kept wandering and wandering, too proud to call Ushijima for help. 

It took a while until he found the end of the field, but then he was suddenly standing on the street and spotted the motorcycle, which wasn't parked too far away. 

Once he went back through the little hole where they had entered the field, he saw Ushijima lying on the picnic blanket, fast asleep. There was a little basket of fresh fruit lying next to him, as well as a bottle of cold tea. There wasn't that much space in the motorcycle's underseat storage, but Ushijima had brought everything needed for a nice little picnic. 

“Hey!” Oikawa said, poking Ushijima's chest with his foot. “Are you seriously going to sleep through our date?”

Ushijima opened his eyes, blinking against the sun behind Oikawa's head. His voice sounded gruff with sleep when he spoke. “I'm sorry. I didn't get much sleep tonight. I spent all my time planning what to do today.”

“Hmmm,” Oikawa hummed, crouching down. “Must've been hard to think of something with that thick, unromantic skull of yours, huh?”

“You seemed happy so far,” Ushijima said with a yawn. “Did you change your mind?”

“Yes!” said Oikawa. “I didn't see a single alien, so I demand a refund!”

Ushijima sat up, reaching for the bottle of tea. His lips did something that was strangely similar to a smile. “I'm sorry you're disappointed,” he said, offering Oikawa the bottle. “Would you like something to drink? I don't have a wide selection, so this will have to do.”

“Like I said – totally unromantic.” Oikawa took the bottle anyway, taking a big swig. “You should seriously take some classes from me or something.”

“Do you offer any?”

“Well, I offer _this_ ,” Oikawa said, throwing the bottle back on the blanket and suddenly turning to straddle Ushijima. It looked like Ushijima's eyes would fall out any second, which gave Oikawa an odd sense of satisfaction – finally, he was able to surprise Ushijima, too. Maybe Ushijima was more used to the painful climb up the date-ladder until he was finally able to touch somebody – although it was more likely that he wasn't used to anything at all. But with Oikawa, it was the exact opposite. Touch came before feelings. He wasn't sure if he could develop romantic feelings for someone he had never even kissed before.

“What-” Ushijima began, when Oikawa folded his hands behind Ushijima's head to draw him closer.

“It seems like there won't be any anal probing otherwise,” Oikawa said.

Ushijima just kept staring at him.

“Is this...” he finally asked. “Is this... romantic?”

Oikawa would have liked to bang his head against the brick wall that was Ushijima Wakatoshi, but he just laughed instead.

“That was a _joke_ , you total dumbnut! Have you never heard a joke before?”

“I'm sorry.” Ushijima looked constipated again. “I will try harder.”

“What am I even going to do with you?” Oikawa sighed. “Like half of my beautiful personality is just lost on you.”

Ushijima didn't seem to know what to say to that, so Oikawa leaned in to kiss him. At least Ushijima was responsive to touch. Oikawa went in slow and deliberate. For once, this was not born out of some animal need – he knew exactly what he was doing. Everyone had told him to just let this progress, see where it would lead, and keep an open mind.

He still didn't want a _relationship_ with Ushijima. He still couldn't see how that would work out. But he wanted to sit in Ushijima's lap on a picnic blanket, in the middle of a corn field, and kiss him while the sun was shining down on them, heating the tingles in their lips and the traces of their fingertips on the others skin. 

In that moment, he was happy. Not the kind of happy he had been before – where it felt like his heart would explode from excitement and he didn't know how to think straight. This was a simple happy, a content one. Ushijima's lips were still as incredibly soft as the first time, his hair still as unexpectedly silky, and his skin smelled of cream and cleanliness. Oikawa suddenly knew that he wanted to have sex with him. 

Not now. It was not an urgent kind of want. But the feeling of Ushijima's strong hands lying so tenderly on Oikawa's hips, the small huffs of breath escaping him every time their lips parted for a short moment, the way his features were still relaxed from his nap. Oikawa wanted to have this. This kind of sensual sex, as opposed to the passionate one they'd had before. Ushijima's fingers on his skin could rewrite their history, his gentle touches betraying the bluntness of his personality. If they talked like that, they understood each other. They spoke the same language. If they talked like that, Oikawa could definitely change his mind about Ushijima.

“You said...”

Oikawa had to tear away from the kiss to speak properly. Ushijima looked at him through half-lidded eyes, expecting the kiss to continue shortly.

“You said that you'd gladly take everything I'm willing to give,” Oikawa said, leaning his forehead against Ushijima's to keep their lips apart for a moment. Ushijima hummed a short affirmative, eager to just go back to the kissing.

“What if I gave you my whole body? What would you do with it?”

Ushijima didn't take long to answer.

“I'd love it,” he said, simply.

“Hm... be more specific.”

“I'd kiss you,” Ushijima said. “Everywhere. Mostly where it makes you feel good. I'd...” His breath stuttered when Oikawa moved his lips to kiss his jaw while he spoke. “I'd try to listen. You are so vocal, I'm... you'd tell me what you like the most, but not with your words... Your words barely make sense, but your body is so expressive. You always demand everything, and I... I want to give it. I like how you never make things easy.”

Oikawa leaned back, out of Ushijima's space, to look him in the eye for a moment.

“Ushijima...” he said. “Could it be that you like me because I am a challenge?”

Ushijima looked back at him, not really breathing hard, but Oikawa was still weirdly focused on the rise and fall of his chest. Maybe because it was the only thing Ushijima was _doing_ right now.

“Ushi- oh.”

Oikawa was an idiot. He had just said his _name_.

“I... I asked you-”

“No,” Ushijima said, leaning back into Oikawa's space. “I like that you're a challenge – but I don't like you _because_ of it. Oikawa – everyone wants you. When you're the best, you can't make it easy for people to reach you – they would eat you alive. You are right to set yourself apart from them, you are right to be _difficult_. It only makes sense. You need and deserve someone who can handle you, and you won't find that by making it easy.”

Oikawa felt breathless again. All those things Ushijima said – all those ridiculous things... Putting him up on a pedestal, making him sound like some kind of God. Oikawa didn't know how to feel about it. His self-conscious side was wailing and squirming somewhere inside him, trying to deny everything. But his narcissistic side was coming _alive_. Oikawa pressed his forehead back against Ushijima's, speaking against his lips.

“And you think that you can handle me?”

“I can,” Ushijima said, sounding entirely sure. Sounding, like so many times before, like Oikawa translated everything that came out of his mouth into this – sounding like a _challenge_.

Oikawa closed his eyes, grin spreading on his lips. He did not lean forward to meet Ushijima's.

“You really are a freak,” he said, burying his hands in Ushijima's hair and grabbing his head with more force than necessary. Ushijima didn't even blink.

“Is that a problem for you?” he asked.

“I don't know,” Oikawa said. “All I know is that hearing you say these things makes me want to be a hundred times more difficult than I already am. Is that a problem for _you_?”

“No,” Ushijima said, so Oikawa stood up, looking down at Ushijima, who had to blink against the sun to look back. It was a beautiful view. It felt great to tower above him like that, to have his face at such a perfect position that for a moment, Oikawa just wanted to open his jeans. But then he didn't, because he already mourned the sensuality of it all. In such a short span of time, they had managed to turn sensuality into that burning passion that Oikawa _loved_ , but wasn't looking for right now. Passion was not a challenge for him. Passion came quick and easy, and it never made him feel good for long. If Ushijima really wanted to have him, giving him _power_ was not the right way to go, no matter how difficult it may be for Ushijima.

"I want to go back into the maze," he said, stepping off the picnic blanket and reaching for an apple. "You can come, this time. I want your opinion as an agriculture major."

"I already told you, I couldn't find anything wrong with the plants," Ushijima said, easily falling back into a casual conversation. He got off from the blanket, stretching a little. Oikawa watched the little slips of skin peeking out from under his shirt.

"Aside from the fact that they're flattened like a pancake?" Oikawa said.

"Obviously."

"Well then it must be aliens, isn't that clear?" Oikawa took a bite out of the apple, happily chewing and waiting for Ushijima to finish stretching. Excitement was already starting to tingle underneath his skin again. He was sure that he hadn't seen everything yet. Maybe Ushijima had photos from above, or drawn a plan. "Tell me everything!"

And so Ushijima took him into the maze. 

They spent hours inside, exploring every path and corner, looking for signs from the unnatural, spinning theories as to what could have happened. The sun shone down on them mercilessly, and soon Oikawa was sweating in his thick clothes, but he didn't care. 

Ushijima didn't have any pictures of the whole maze, because the farmer the field belonged to didn't go to the press with it yet, and he didn't own a drone with which he could have taken a picture from above.

Oikawa insisted on trying to draw a map, even though they both didn't know how to go about it and failed miserably. It was the most fun Oikawa had had in a while. Ushijima never agreed with his alien theory, but he didn't make him feel stupid for believing it either. He just kept saying that as long as he didn't find any clues, anything could have happened – he just didn't think aliens were the most likely reason.

"I'm hungry!" Oikawa declared, once the sun had wandered to the other end of the field, and they both hadn't eaten anything but milkbread and some fruit. Oikawa was even starting to eye the uncooked corncobs with growing interest.

"There's a little village not far from here," Ushijima said, getting up from the ground, where he had inspected a broken corn plant. "It has a nice little takoyaki stall, if you like-"

"Fuck yes!" Oikawa was already turning back into the path they had just come through. He was too hungry to concentrate on exploring the maze, and it would have been a shame if he missed any important clues because of it. Also, takoyaki sounded great, even if it wasn't the most romantic food to eat. Had Ushijima had reservations for a five-star-restaurant, Oikawa would have gotten whiplash from too much perfection. They weren't dressed for anything fancy anyway. 

“You'll bring me back here again, won't you?” Oikawa asked, greedily trying to take in every last impression he was going to get from this place.

“Anytime you want,” Ushijima promised. “I'll keep you up to date about the investigation, too.”

“Good!” Oikawa said, looking up to check on the position of the sun. It wasn't dark yet, and wouldn't be for a while, but the brunt of midday was long over. If the village wasn't too far away, they would probably arrive there at a good time to eat dinner. 

The thought alone made his stomach rumble – he just hoped that the takoyaki were worth the wait. So far, Ushijima's date had been without fault, so Oikawa doubted that a simple dinner as this one would somehow turn the tables. He had to admit defeat. Ushijima had somehow seized his heart, and Oikawa could hear it pound in his own ears. Everything about today just felt so _good_. There was a fresh breeze brushing through the field, and Oikawa's feet suddenly decided to stop in their tracks. 

They were in the middle of a path from one circle to another, surrounded by tall corn plants which were only letting in a fraction of the orange sun. The air around them was warm and alive, small animal sounds humming through the thicket. Oikawa was suddenly aware of how beautiful it all was, how much he had missed this calm, this feeling you only ever got in the country. He had been so distracted by the crop circles that he barely noticed the simple beauty of nature, the clean air, the smell of earth and plants. How _safe_ it made you feel. How grounded and protected. 

He turned around to Ushijima, who was just standing there, waiting for him to say something. 

In a way, Ushijima embodied this feeling so well that Oikawa wasn't surprised about liking him anymore. He, too, was simple, but in an earthy way. Strong and calm, harsh sometimes, but also soft, beautiful in his sobriety. 

Oikawa was just a country bumpkin, after all.

“Is something wrong?” Ushijima asked, when Oikawa just kept staring at him, reveling in his moment of self-awareness. 

Oikawa couldn't snap out of it quickly enough, so he did something unconscious and kissed Ushijima. 

There was a strange quality to the kiss, something that was probably born from homesickness and a little bit of nostalgia. Ushijima's lips tasted like nature – not the dirty, muddy kind. The warm and soft one. The one that made Oikawa melt into his arms with a soundless sigh, the one that felt like coming home. In a strange way, he was reminded of Iwaizumi. Maybe it was the buzzing all around them, bugs and bees and dragonflies. He remembered running through fields like these back when he was a child, remembered the angry farmers chasing them, remembered Iwaizumi taking his hand and pulling him down into a river bed, remembered tumbling through the water, not reaching higher than their thighs. He wondered when that had stopped being enough. 

“Are you alright?” Ushijima's deep rumbling made him open his eyes again, and he noticed that they were wetter than usual.

“Just hungry,” he said, quickly turning around and walking away like nothing had happened. Because nothing _had_ happened. He was just too sentimental for his own good sometimes.

“Those takoyaki better be worth it.”

 

They were. Of course they were. Oikawa didn't know what he had expected. 

The little village had been just a short drive away, Oikawa's complaining drowned out by the helmet and the motorcycle's steady purr. The sun was still sitting on top of a hill, the shadows not yet long enough to reach the village, but by the time they reached the takoyaki stall, its owner was just lighting up the lanterns hanging from it.

Ushijima parked his bike at the foot of the hill, waiting for Oikawa to get down before he took off his helmet. 

“You'll probably like the owners,” he said, glancing towards the stall, where a young woman just appeared from behind the counter to blow soap bubbles at an older man. “They're quite... lively.”

“Don't sound so pained saying it,” Oikawa laughed. “Did they force you to _talk_?”

“Among other things,” Ushijima said, one hand sneaking around Oikawa's back as if to steer him in the right direction, but Oikawa got the feeling Ushijima was just trying to hide behind him. 

Oikawa didn't get to tickle him anymore, because the girl had already spotted them and sent a wave of soap bubbles their way.

“It's farmer boy!” she announced loudly, making the older man look up from his little kitchen counter. “Are you finally gonna ask for my hand?”

“Stop spooking our customers,” the owner chided, sending Ushijima an apologetic smile. “Don't mind her, she rolled down that hill too much when she was a child. We can see that you're on a date.”

So they were father and daughter, most likely. Both of them gave Oikawa a curious stare when he walked up to the stall and sat on one of the stools, smiling brightly. The girl stopped blowing soap bubbles, suddenly getting all up in his face. 

“Holy shit!” she breathed. “You're pretty!”

“Not as pretty as you,” Oikawa said with a wink – it was cheesy and over the top, but it wasn't necessarily untrue. She had a kind of charm that made her shine – the messy bun, over-sized clothes type of girl, loud-mouthed and confident, and best of all: Not afraid to tease a brawny guy like Ushijima. She didn't immediately swoon at Oikawa's antics either.

“This is the most symmetrical face I've ever seen, damn – what did they feed you as a baby?”

“I only got the freshest virgin blood to drink,” Oikawa said, grinning. Next to him, Ushijima cleared his throat uncomfortably. 

“Please, Oikawa – I would like to keep my appetite.”

“Are you honestly complaining?” the girl gawked. “Seriously, farmer boy! You need to step up your game – what were you thinking bringing him here to this ramshackle takoyaki stall?”

“Honey, this is how we make our living,” the owner interjected, but his daughter was too caught up in her rant.

“Look at him – you should take him somewhere magical, somewhere romantic – like a boat that floats along a stream all by itself, wild roses growing on the shore wherever you pass by and mermaids swimming alongside you with plates and plates of delicious food.”

“She really manages to make today's date seem bland,” Oikawa laughed, digging his elbow in Ushijima's side. Ushijima looked unperturbed.

“I'm confident in having done the best rationally possible thing,” he said, earning himself a cloud of soap bubbles to the face.

“Supernatural beauty deserves supernatural efforts,” the girl insisted. “No excuses.”

“Next time I should just go on a date with _you_ ,” Oikawa smirked, wondering if it was possible to make Ushijima jealous by flirting with other people while they were on a date. 

“Nah, I can't marry a pretty boy like you. If you can't at least lift a cow, you're not the guy for me,” said the girl, turning to take two plates of fresh takoyaki from her father's hands and setting them before her customers. “But if you dig in now, you might be able to someday.”

“Don't mind if I do,” Oikawa said, suddenly remembering that he was starving. The takoyaki looked and smelled delicious. They probably _were_ delicious, too, but by the time Oikawa remembered that he had tastebuds, he had already inhaled everything. 

He looked up to see the girl staring at him, a mix of surprise and awe on her face. 

“Don't tell me,” she said, reaching for Oikawa's empty plate, “that he even let you _starve_?”

“He _did_!” Oikawa said, finding himself getting swept up in her theatricality. “I honestly thought this was a good date until now – no idea what kind of hypnosis he used on me to make me think so, but I'm so glad you're here to put everything into perspective.”

“This is _outrageous!_ ” the girl wailed, clutching her chest. “You poor, beautiful creature. Finding yourself in the clutches of this... this _beast_!” She used the backside of Oikawa's empty plate to tap her father's head, demanding a second serving. “How did you even find yourself in this situation?”

“I don't even _know!_ By any accounts, it doesn't make sense.”

“Magic is clearly involved.”

“Or aliens!”

Ushijima didn't react to their conversation – he just quietly sat there, eating his takoyaki and looking content. He was probably glad that Oikawa and the girl managed to entertain each other, even if it was at his expense. Oikawa would have liked to see him get jealous, but he wasn't stupid – he had dated jealous people before, and it wasn't as romantic as one might think. Oikawa was a people's person. Flirting was his natural style of conversation. If he couldn't flirt, he couldn't be himself, and getting into a fight every time he was being himself wasn't cute for long. Besides, he liked being close with people – he told Iwaizumi he loved him on a daily basis, he had kissed at least 80 percent of the people he considered friends, and he was dead-set on making it a hundred, if only Yahaba would stop being such a prude for a second. 

So Ushijima showing no signs of jealousy was a good thing. It was true to his words from earlier, too – about him being able to handle Oikawa and all aspects of his personality. It didn't keep Oikawa from wanting to be difficult, though, so he leaned over and snatched a piece of takoyaki from Ushijima's plate, even though there was a fresh serving being set down in front of him that very moment. 

“Yes, good!” said the girl, snatching a piece from Ushijima's plate as well, even when her father cried not to steal food from their customers. “Take away the source of his power. Great plan.”

“I thought you liked his beef, though,” Oikawa smirked. “What was that about lifting cows? Ushiwaka could probably do it.”

“Oh, don't worry, I will help free you from his spell, mostly so I can marry him in the end. Everyone's happy, fairytale ending,” the girl said through a mouthful of takoyaki. 

“Aha!” Oikawa exclaimed, slamming his toothpick onto the counter. “Your evil plans reveal themselves, witch!”

“How is it an evil plan when you don't want him anyway?”

“Don't try to twist my words – just because I don't want him doesn't mean he's free to haul everyone's cattle around – he'll be lifting my cow, and mine alone!” Oikawa insisted, trying hard to keep a serious face while babbling such nonsense. 

“I have an idea,” said the girl, looking like she was trying just as hard not to laugh. “We should arm-wrestle for his hand.”

“Great idea,” Oikawa said, pushing his full plate to the side to get in position. 

Ushijima longingly looked at the fresh takoyaki being pushed out of his reach. “Do I get any say in this?” he asked.

“Nope!” Oikawa and the girl answered simultaneously.

“Don't think you can beat me, just because I'm a girl. I'm from the country, I'm not afraid of getting my hands dirty,” she said, looking back at Oikawa.

“You sell takoyaki in a stall, it literally doesn't make any difference whether you're from the country or not.”

“It's more of an attitude kind of thing.”

“Attitude alone won't beat me – I have a ton of that, too,” Oikawa said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Anyway, are you just going to trash-talk me into a coma, or are you actually going to fight me?”

She finally reached for his hand, giving one last smirk.

“I fight,” she said. “Are you ready? Three, two, one-”

Oikawa slammed her hand down on the table with no difficulties, almost hitting the full plate of takoyaki he had just pushed to the side. The girl's father was fast enough to snatch it away, putting it down in front of Ushijima with a sigh. Meanwhile, the girl just stared at their still intertwined hands, lost for words.

“What the fuck?” she finally yelled. “But you don't _look_ -”

“That wasn't surprising,” Ushijima cut in, happily reaching for his chopsticks. “Oikawa plays volleyball in the same team as I, and he's famous for his strong serves.”

The girl shook off his hand, suddenly climbing half across the counter to push the motorcycle jacket down from Oikawa's shoulders. He had been too hungry to care about it, and sweating in it was worth every second he got to see the girl's eyes widen as she looked at his arms.

“You were hiding your guns!” she accused, putting down her fist. “You damn cheater! I was distracted by your pretty face – how should I have known you're not built like a stick?”

“It's your own fault for judging people based on their looks,” Oikawa said smugly. He enjoyed this a lot – it was unusual for someone to stare at his arms like that when Ushijima was sitting right there beside him. “Don't just assume that only one part of me is perfect. I'm actually perfect all around! Right, Ushiwaka-chan?”

“I don't know if I would call it 'perfect all around', but your good points do far outweigh your bad ones,” Ushijima said, chewing on the takoyaki he had stolen from Oikawa.

Oikawa gave a loud gasp. 

“Are you saying I have _bad_ points?”

“Well, I did get to learn a few things about you lately,” said Ushijima, setting his toothpick to the side to lift a hand and count down from his fingers. “One – you are very untidy.”

“My room looks like that because I actually _live_ in it!” Oikawa insisted, but Ushijima was already at finger two.

“Two – you apparently dress like a clown when left to your own devices.”

“That... I am simply _bold_ in my fashion choices!” Oikawa said. He could not believe he had to hear something like this coming from Ushijima, while they were on their first _date_! How dare he. Revealing Oikawa's biggest shame in front of strangers – Oikawa was going to make him pay for that.

“Three,” Ushijima said, mercilessly, “You can't dance at all.”

That finally made Oikawa slam his hand down on the counter. 

“Now you went too far!” he gasped. “You, Mr. Robot, accusing me of being a bad dancer? When you dance like you're trying to press out a huge shit?”

“My look of constipation simply stems from the concentration needed to avoid your stomping feet,” Ushijima said, and while it may have sounded like simple banter to the untrained ear, Oikawa knew that he meant every syllable. 

“Oooooh, interesting.” The girl, who had eagerly observed their little debate, suddenly clapped her hands. “You know what this calls for, right?”

Yes, Oikawa _did_ know what this called for, because his and the girl's minds apparently worked in tandem. Turning to point two fingers at each other, they both chanted, “Dance-off!”, causing a sudden shadow to fall over Ushijima's face.

“I'd rather not,” he said grimly. 

“Yes, and we all know why,” Oikawa smirked.

“Because it's impossible to ride a motorcycle with two broken feet,” Ushijima said – again without any trace of sarcasm, which only made it so much more outrageous. 

“Music!” Oikawa demanded. He had already spotted the old radio sitting atop a tall fridge in the edge of the takoyaki stall, and the girl immediately went to grab it. Oikawa jumped down from his stool, kicking at Ushijima's to make him stand up as well. He did so with a long-suffering sigh, letting Oikawa pull him away from the stall so they had more room to dance.

The girl soon found a radio station that played mostly instrumental pieces so that they didn't have to waltz to pop hits again. Ushijima took Oikawa's hands, putting them in the right position. “Ready?” he asked.

He started before Oikawa could even answer, so of course Oikawa was too surprised to react and ended up stumbling a little. 

“Hey! You don't have to try and sabotage me just to prove your point!” Oikawa complained, trying to find back into the rhythm. 

All Ushijima had to say to that was a dry 'ouch' because Oikawa had just stepped on his foot.

“That... that's the punishment you deserve!”

Oikawa furrowed his brows in concentration, looking down at what his feet were doing, but for some reason, he just couldn't follow the flow. It was probably because they were dancing to this boring music – the modern hits were just so much more fun. Besides, it was getting dark, so how was he supposed to see where he stepped? 

“You were very drunk last time,” Ushijima said, twirling him around in an impossible move. “That's why you didn't realize you were mostly dancing on my feet.”

“Shut up!” Oikawa barked. He couldn't believe this. From the takoyaki booth, he could see the girl's grin flashing in the lights of the lanterns – luckily, she didn't have time to laugh at him, because the music and their dancing had attracted a few more patrons who were wondering what's going on and stopped for a plate of takoyaki. More people to witness Oikawa's failing – how wonderful. 

“This is bullshit!” Oikawa said, finally standing still. “I am a _great_ dancer! It just won't work when it's a boring dance. Watch this!”

He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the music. It was harder without a beat to lead him, but Oikawa's hips had always been better dancers than his feet, and it didn't take long for them to find the right rhythm, even though the music genre was entirely wrong for this kind of dancing. Ushijima had frozen back into a log as soon as Oikawa pulled him in to press their bodies against each other. 

“Oikawa, this isn't a night club,” Ushijima said, glancing towards the other patrons who were watching them with raised eyebrows. The girl sent them a wolf-whistle, but she didn't change the radio station to something more fitting, so Oikawa had to work with what he was given.

“If you can waltz with me through a club, then I can grind on you to classical music,” Oikawa said, hands traveling down Ushijima's back to grab his ass for good measure. “And you know what? This is payback time.”

“You guys really need to come here more often,” the girl called over, and when Oikawa turned to look, he saw that the takoyaki stall was suddenly overrun with new customers. Some of them had even started to dance, and one older couple was caught in a giggling fit as they tried to imitate the way Oikawa and Ushijima were dancing. Their hips were way too stiff already, so it just amounted to them dancing closely while touching each other's butts, which was strangely adorable. 

Ushijima cleared his throat to gain Oikawa's attention.

“Payback time?” he asked. “What for?”

“Suddenly calling me out like that, when we're supposed to be on a _romantic date_ ,” Oikawa said, lightly slapping Ushijima's butt. “So, here are my call-outs for you. First of all, you are _abysmal_ at playing darts. Throwing something with feeling really shouldn't be such a hard concept for a volleyball player.”

“Alright, thank you for the constructive criticism.”

“I'm not done yet,” said Oikawa. “Second of all, you're too weak towards commercials. Don't believe everything they tell you about shitty products. You should see the stuff Kuroo and Bokuto come up with to sell the weirdest shit. I never thought you'd be one of the people to eat it right up, but it makes sense I guess.”

Ushijima looked like he wanted to defend himself on that one. “I also read the online reviews before I spend money on-”

“Please, Ushiwaka, those are all fake – what kind of world do you think you live in?”

Ushijima opened his mouth again, but Oikawa quickly muted him by grinding on him and pulling his head closer until their lips were almost touching.

“And third,” Oikawa breathed against Ushijima's mouth. “You don't have to try out how much criticism I can take from you in such a sneaky way. Do you think I won't notice that you never even came close to any touchy subjects? If you have something to say to me... then stand your ground and spit it out.”

Ushijima had finally frozen solid, and Oikawa let go of him, standing still as well, looking at him with expectant eyes. 

He could see the gears in Ushijima's head working, could see the question in his eyes, the ' _should I dare?_ , but Oikawa kept his expression hard and unmoving. It would be impossible for someone like Ushijima to read anything from it.

And yet, when he talked, he had somehow managed to make the right decision.

“No,” he said, arms slowly circling Oikawa's waist to draw him closer again. “I have nothing to say.”

“Good.” Oikawa melted back against his body, his lips finding Ushijima's for a slow kiss. From the takoyaki stall came another wolf-whistle, but Oikawa didn't turn to wink at the girl. He closed his eyes, body swaying to the music, greedily sucking in a breath of clean country air, mixed with the smell of fresh takoyaki and Ushijima's aftershave. They danced past the giggling old couple, and a group of cheering customers, and the flickering light of the lanterns, and finally, Ushijima's tongue grazed Oikawa's lips, and he took it – took it all, without question, and let the burning feeling of _want_ in his stomach finally burst into flames.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so... [essrambles](http://essrambles.tumblr.com/) was super fast with proof-reading, so you get this chapter fairly quickly - but this is the last bit of my nanowrimo craze, so from now on, I have nothing else written and it's gonna take a while longer than before! 
> 
> on the bright side - this is 10k of porn, so... yeah.
> 
> idk. i hope you have fun. I'm just gonna throw this at you and run away screaming.  
> (also, i really hope no one caught a glimpse at my search history back when i wrote this, because the time i spent in sex forums, reading about men and their sexual experiences, was... well. at least it was quite informative for an asexual like me :'D)

Ushijima parked the motorcycle in front of Oikawa's dorm building. It was a Saturday night, so the campus was quite lively - there was no way to hide from the people. There would be a show one way or the other, so Oikawa decided to take it to the next level. He took off his helmet and shrugged out of his jacket, putting both things on the floor. Cameras were already flashing - he hoped that someone had gotten a great picture of him taking off his helmet and shaking his hair. Ushijima kept sitting on the motorcycle - he still had to return it to Tendou, so he didn't have to get off it yet.

"Kill the engine!" Oikawa ordered, walking around the motorcycle so he stood next to Ushijima. The ride through the city traffic had already calmed him down, but he was still a little high from going fast earlier on the highway. Ushijima didn't question him, just did as Oikawa said and turned to give him an expectant look.

Oikawa made sure to keep his balance as he swung himself over the motorcycle to sit in Ushijima's lap. He had already mastered opening the helmet, and managed to take Ushijima's off without too much fumbling. People around them started to whistle and applaud before Oikawa even leaned in to kiss him.

Only yesterday, Oikawa had said that he and Ushijima weren't dating, and today Oikawatch would be filled to the brim with pictures of them making out on a motorcycle. But Oikawa wasn't embarrassed by that. He was famous for being a fickle creature, saying one thing and doing the other. It was just one of the things that made him so interesting.

Ushijima just silently watched him when Oikawa pulled back. It was impossible to read his face, so Oikawa didn’t bother.

“You have half an hour,” he said. “Go get a change of clothes for tomorrow, and your toothbrush. You won’t need any clothes to sleep in – but bring your coffee machine, and the milk frother. If you’re not back after thirty minutes, I won’t open the door. Understand?”

Ushijima gave a curt nod, and Oikawa pushed the helmet back over his head, kissing it as a little extra for the cameras.

“Alright then. See you later.”

He climbed down from the motorcycle to walk into the crowd, leaving his own helmet and jacket for Ushijima to collect from the ground. Ushijima’s motorcycle drowned out the cheering for a moment, then he was gone and Oikawa was left alone with a bunch of screaming students.

Distributing two or three high-fives along the way, he went to enter the building, not giving any comment about what everyone had just witnessed. There was no comment needed. His actions spoke for themselves.

Oikawa Tooru and Ushijima Wakatoshi were officially a _thing_.

Not a couple – not really – but a _thing_ , and it was already more than Oikawa had ever dreamed would happen between them. Maybe it should have been clear from the beginning that he would never be able to just have a normal, friendly relationship with Ushijima. That guy drove him up the wall. Even when it was in good ways. Everything he was involved in just seemed five times as intense – whether it was an exciting moment, or an annoying moment, or a calm moment. He somehow fed Oikawa’s thirst for intensive emotions, and yet he wasn’t overwhelmed by them – making him pretty much a perfect match.

Had someone told Oikawa two weeks ago that he would maybe, possibly, fall for Ushijima Wakatoshi, Oikawa would have spit in that person’s face with laughter. But now, he was seriously questioning it. He walked up the stairs to his room, blending out everyone around him, and wondered when those damn butterflies had started to go wild in his stomach.

The IceBreaker incident? The campus kiss? That one equipment room quickie? Or had he just been won over by that stupidly perfect date? Maybe the aliens _did_ mess with him in some way. It was the only explanation.

Aliens were also the only explanation to why his room looked like it did once he opened the door.

“Shit!” he said to himself. “I really _am_ a mess!”

He closed the door behind himself, suddenly regretting his decision to only give Ushijima half an hour. First things first: he ran over to his bed to change the sheets. Those were still the same sheets as when he had made out with Kuroo, so that would be weird. At least the blanket was freshly washed.

Oikawa stumbled around his room, trying to get everything as clean and orderly as he could. Sure, Ushijima had already seen it in the exact state it had just been in, but Oikawa wouldn’t get in a sexy mood when his yellow smiley-face boxerbriefs were grinning at him from the table lamp.

At least his room was small. He had just finished brushing his teeth and washing out the sink when someone knocked on his door. Oikawa knew from the sound alone that it was Ushijima. No one else would have such a steady, slow knock.

“Hey!” he said, ripping open the door. He was greeted by the sight of Ushijima awkwardly standing there while a bunch of people loitered around in the corridor, watching them with eager eyes. He had brought a huge bag, which hopefully contained his coffee machine.

“Come in!” Oikawa grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the room, throwing the door back on its hinges. That was enough action for these vultures. Didn’t they have anything better to do on a Saturday night?

“I… I brought the things you asked for,” Ushijima said, still looking awkward. Maybe it wasn’t the people outside who made him insecure. Maybe it was just Oikawa.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great.” Oikawa took the bag from Ushijima’s hand so that there was finally no barrier between them, and his body reacted as if Ushijima was magnetic, unable to resist the pull.

Oikawa audibly moaned when Ushijima finally put his hands around his waist to draw him closer. He needed this so bad. How had he even survived this long without sex? It had to be almost five months now, and even then, it had been a girl, which was nice, too – but just not Oikawa’s favorite. He wanted someone who was taller and more powerful than him, someone who’d be able to tear him apart, someone Oikawa had to _trust_. He wanted someone who was obsessed with him, someone who’d only concentrate on making him feel good. Someone like Ushijima.

“Wait!” Oikawa said, breaking the kiss for a moment. He could already feel Ushijima getting hard, and he needed to stop now, before he couldn’t stop anymore. “Not yet – I need to shower first. I’m sweaty from those damn warm clothes – and so are you.”

His shower was too small to have sex in, but it should fit two bodies somehow, even if one of them was Ushijima’s. Besides, what better reason to break a shower than to try and fit into it with a guy who was built like a bull? Oikawa would actually love explaining this to the apartment manager.

“Let’s shower together!” Oikawa said, already pulling at Ushijima’s purple shirt.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ushijima asked. “I would like to concentrate on my routine, and you’re… you’re very distracting.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “I won’t keep you from shampooing your hair, geez! You’re acting really strange right now. Am I kicking you that far out of your comfort zone?”

“I’m not nervous,” Ushijima obviously lied. Maybe he just didn’t know what nervous _meant_. Oikawa grinned a little, drawing a finger along the naked skin under Ushijima’s shirt.

“Well then, I’m sure you’re brave enough to join me,” he said, leaving Ushijima right there to step into the bathroom instead.

Ushijima didn’t follow him immediately, probably just standing there like he had been paralyzed. Oikawa had already slipped out of his jeans and shirt once he heard some rustling from behind the bathroom door. He had no idea what Ushijima was doing, but he was too proud to check, so he turned the water on and stepped into the shower, facing the wall so Ushijima would only see him from behind if he ever came into the bathroom.

Oikawa stepped under the warm stream, letting it rain down over his head for a moment, so he didn’t hear it when Ushijima actually came in. The sound of some more rustling alerted him to Ushijima being in the room, and Oikawa turned his head to find him kneeling over a huge array of little tins and bottles on the bathroom floor. They looked like all kinds of body care products.

Oikawa didn’t ask what he was doing, even though he was curious. He watched Ushijima choose some of the products and set them aside before he undressed himself. Oikawa looked away before the pants were gone. He wanted to _feel_ him first. He wanted to be seduced. If he just up and looked, he would probably be on his knees in the next second.

“Are you sure I will fit?” Ushijima asked. Oikawa just motioned for him to open the glass door and let himself in, and Ushijima carefully obeyed. He was carrying some of the products in his arms and lined them up along the little rack hanging in the shower before he squeezed himself in. Oikawa tried to make space for him, but they were still pressed up against each other. Enough for Oikawa to feel Ushijima’s boner against his thigh. He had been right – this _was_ a good idea!

“What’s all this?” Oikawa nodded in the direction of the little rack, but then didn’t give Ushijima the time to answer – he just turned and locked their lips, warm water raining down over their faces. He already knew what all that was. More of Ushijima’s teleshopping plunder. It was strangely adorable.

The first thing Ushijima said after their lips parted, was, “Do you want to try some?” and Oikawa couldn’t help but laugh.

“As long as they won’t make my hair fall out. It’s quite beautiful, you know?”

“It will be even more beautiful with this,” Ushijima said, eagerly turning to take a bottle from the rack. “This one will give it a natural shine. And this one -” he took another bottle in his hands, “- will protect it from becoming greasy.”

“Are you saying I need to use a special grease shampoo because my hair is always greasy?” Oikawa gasped, chuckling when Ushijima looked taken aback. “God, stop looking like I'll kick you in the balls any moment. Just put it on my head, will you?”

Ushijima nodded earnestly before he put the grease shampoo back and squeezed a dollop of the shine-shampoo onto his palm. He rubbed it between his hands, making a concentrated face that was fun to watch. Oikawa observed his eyebrows as Ushijima reached up, massaging the shampoo into Oikawa’s hair.

“Oh!” Oikawa said, suddenly feeling playful. “I almost forgot!” He leaned in to kiss the crease between Ushijima's eyebrows. “I'm a distracting guy.” He grinned, bopping his nose against Ushijima's and pressing another short kiss against his lips. Ushijima just grunted a little and continued to rub the shampoo in Oikawa's hair. It felt nice – he had a good pressure going on. Oikawa couldn't help but moan happily as he felt tension disappear from his body. He hugged Ushijima closer, slowly grinding their erections together. Ushijima didn't stop massaging Oikawa's head – he was totally dedicated to his task and it almost seemed like he didn't even notice Oikawa's fingers caressing him, or Oikawa's mouth on his neck, if it hadn't been for a little grunt here and there.

“We need to wash it out now,” he announced. Oikawa made no move to take the shower head off its holder, so Ushijima did it himself, carefully washing the soap out of Oikawa's hair and making sure it didn't get into his eyes. It felt so intimate somehow, Oikawa really wanted to return the favor.

“Now let me do you,” he whispered, hanging the shower head back on the holder and reaching for the same shampoo Ushijima had chosen for him. “Is this the one you usually use?”

Ushijima nodded, crouching down a little so Oikawa had better reach, but then the position seemed to be awkward, so he just kept going, until he was kneeling in front of Oikawa, mouth trailing along Oikawa's torso on his way down.

“Oh shit,” Oikawa moaned when Ushijima kissed a line down his pelvic bone. “Be careful, don't make me come!”

Ushijima looked up at him through the stream of water raining down on his face, and then he closed his mouth aro und Oikawa's cock, tongue teasingly licking against the underside of its head. Oikawa moaned again, longer and louder than before. “You little shit!” he said, collecting himself to squeeze some shampoo out of the bottle. “I didn't know you could be so- ah!”

Ushijima swallowed more of him and Oikawa let the bottle fall down, pressing both hands against the back of Ushijima's head to guide him. He leaned against the glass shower wall behind him, his narcissistic streak flaming up for a second as he wondered what this would look like from the other side. Refusing the urge to turn his head and check if there was still enough room to hang a mirror, he began drawing his hands through Ushijima's hair, spreading the shampoo until it foamed up. Ushijima was bracing himself with both hands against the shower wall, head slowly moving back and forth, and _God_ , Oikawa wanted to film it, wanted to have a reminder of this forever.

“That's enough, stop!” Oikawa gasped, afraid that he would come too soon. Ushijima released his cock with a wet sound, but he didn't pull back and continued to nuzzle against Oikawa's balls instead. Oikawa took the shower head down to wash the shampoo from his hair, feeling a bit like he was spraying a misbehaving cat with water.

The water was not enough to make Ushijima stop, though. Even when the soapy water flowed down over his face, he didn't stop sucking at Oikawa's balls, and Oikawa let him, until he started to seriously feel an orgasm building, so he pulled Ushijima off by his hair and pressed him against the opposite shower wall, giving his cock a few punishing strokes. Ushijima blindly fumbled for another bottle on the rack while Oikawa kissed him. It was conditioner this time, and Ushijima got to work with the same kind of forced concentration he had shown before.

Getting a devilish idea, Oikawa freed the shower head from its holder again. Ushijima was so distracted by his task that he didn't notice when Oikawa turned up the water-pressure. Only when the stream was suddenly aimed against his cock did he react – and it was a beautiful reaction. Eyes and mouth suddenly wide open, but only managing a broken-sounding ,“Oh!” - Oikawa decided to have no mercy. It was too good to see Ushijima throw his head back, leaning heavily against the wall behind him as Oikawa aimed the stream straight to his frenulum. Even Ushijima couldn't stay silent through that. He moaned loud enough to penetrate the walls, and Oikawa hoped that both Yahaba and Futakuchi were home right now, to witness Oikawa's greatest feat so far.

Ushijima came within mere seconds. The unrelenting pressure against the most sensitive part of his cock was too much to take for long. Oikawa watched in fascination as Ushijima's cock visibly throbbed, shooting a load of thick, white liquid against his own abdomen. Oikawa didn't wash it away immediately, putting the shower head back on its holder, aimed to the other side, and kneeling down to lick a line up the underside of Ushijima's cock.

Ushijima was still shuddering – Oikawa could feel some veins in his cock still throbbing dryly, and he just had to fit his whole mouth around it, even though Ushijima was already over-sensitive. His cock was too big for Oikawa's mouth, but that just made Oikawa harder, so he quickly pulled back, letting Ushijima slide down the wall a little, breathing heavily.

“You okay there?” Oikawa asked, grinning. Ushijima just nodded with his eyes pressed closed, and Oikawa leaned in to kiss him again, unable to stop smiling. “Here, let me,” he said, taking the conditioner from the floor and squeezing some of it onto Ushijima's head. “I wouldn't want to mess with your routine, after all.”

“Oikawa...” Ushijima moaned – it was the first word to leave his mouth for a while now, and Oikawa could feel his cock twitch at the mention of his own name. “Oi... kawa!”

“Yes, I know,” Oikawa said, soothingly massaging the conditioner in Ushijima's hair. “I shouldn't have let you come so soon. But now you can just concentrate on me and my needs until you're fit to go again, so what can I say? I'm a genius.”

Ushijima opened his eyes, and to Oikawa's surprise he still looked hungry. Then Oikawa was suddenly lifted off the floor and pressed against his side of the wall, Ushijima's tongue entering his mouth forcefully. Oikawa's legs wrapped around Ushijima's waist, his cock rubbing against hard abs, and he gave a muffled cry as he automatically ground against the body before him, looking for friction. Ushijima helped him by grabbing his ass and drawing him closer, making Oikawa feel like he weighed nothing.

“Slower! Slow down, come on!” Oikawa commanded, once he managed to tear his mouth away from Ushijima's. He didn't really expect Ushijima to listen – but he did. He stopped moving, just kept pressing Oikawa against the shower wall, head buried in the space between Oikawa's neck and shoulders. Shuddering breaths blew against Oikawa's naked skin, giving him goosebumps of the hot and cold kind at once.

“That's better,” Oikawa said. “I don't want to fuck you in here, it's too cramped. We're going to break something like this.”

Ushijima released a longer, steadier breath, and then he lightly graced Oikawa's skin with his teeth.

“Yeah, just like this...” Oikawa closed his eyes, concentrating on Ushijima's mouth sucking at his neck, undoubtedly leaving a mark. “ _Foreplay_ ,” Oikawa said. “I'm not easily satisfied. This isn't some equipment room quickie. I want you to do some work!”

Oikawa could feel that Ushijima was still erect, but he listened to what Oikawa had to say, and went slow, almost tortuously so. The shower stream was aimed directly at them, keeping them wet and warm, and Ushijima's fingers started to draw small circles on Oikawa's buttocks, thumbs creeping closer to the middle, spreading them apart more and more. Oikawa barely noticed how his legs started to tremble in anticipation. 

Ushijima's mouth distracted him with kisses while his fingers explored everything that was to explore. Oikawa could feel Ushijima's dick press against his perineum, soon joined by massaging fingers, and he gave a content moan to indicate that he liked where this was going. Ushijima's other hand had finally found his hole, thumb stroking over the small ring with no pressure. Oikawa was already so relaxed, and so eager – he wondered how much preparation he would need. If he'd even need any at all. He wanted that thumb to just go for it, to just dive in, see how Oikawa's hole would take it. But he had told Ushijima to go slow, and he was not about to contradict himself this soon, so he kept his mouth shut, except to let Ushijima's tongue in.

It was pure, delicious torture. Ushijima's fingers held a steady rhythm on the soft skin of his perineum, massaging his prostate from the outside, while his thumb circled the muscle of his hole, probably trying to turn it into pudding. Oikawa's body acted by itself, rocking forward again, to rub his dick against Ushijima's abs, but Ushijima held him firm in place, biting his neck as punishment.

“Okay! Okay, I got it!” Oikawa moaned after he couldn't possibly take more of this. “Just go in already! I want you inside me, now!”

He could feel Ushijima's dick twitch against his balls, and felt proud about it for a moment, but then Ushijima decided to keep him waiting even longer, thumb making no move to put any more pressure on his hole, just slowly stroking his twitching ring of muscles. Oikawa had both arms wrapped around Ushijima's head, one hand resting between his shoulder blades, and now it constricted in protest, scratching a long line up to Ushijima's neck.

“Your finger!” Oikawa said. “Inside me! Now!”

Ushijima had to mute him with one last, rebellious kiss before he finally listened. He rearranged their bodies for a moment so that Oikawa was mostly held up by the pressure against the wall instead of Ushijima's arms. Oikawa's head was reeling by the time Ushijima finally touched him again, pointer finger applying just a little bit of pressure to see how much he could stretch the muscles. Oikawa urged him to go on, impatiently rocking in his arms, and Ushijima's finger finally made it past the muscle. The water had made everything just a little slicker, and Oikawa's body was practically screaming for it, so it turned out to be no problem at all. Ushijima kept the finger inside, using his other hand to massage the stretch around it, until he slipped in deeper and deeper, Oikawa's body inviting him in without protest.

“Fuck!” Oikawa gasped, once Ushijima's whole finger was inside him, able to put pressure on his prostate from the inside too. It had been way too long since he had felt like this. The girl he had last slept with wouldn't have put her fingers anywhere near his anus, even if he had asked, but Ushijima had no such inhibitions. Oikawa sat on his finger, head thrown back, Ushijima's mouth on his throat, and he felt the world shift into place. “Move!” he ordered, and Ushijima obeyed. He bent his finger, stroked along Oikawa's walls, searching for the spot that would make him moan again. Outside, his thumb was still massaging his perineum, and it didn't take long until Oikawa's prostate was thoroughly teased from two sides, making his eyes roll back a little.

But it wasn't until Ushijima added a second finger that he started to really squirm. It had to be difficult for Ushijima to hold him up like that, but he managed – he always managed. Oikawa was held firmly in place whilst his whole lower half shuddered and trembled, growing riper with the need for release. However, there was just not enough friction, just not enough to push him over the edge. It was maddening. There were no more instructions coming out of his mouth, only a garbled mess of sounds and probably more spit than Oikawa would like to admit. He was so hard, it seemed almost impossible that he couldn't come yet.

“Fuuuuck!” he moaned again, bucking up in Ushijima's arms. Ushijima kept the same rhythm, not giving him a break, not giving him release, just slowly working him up until time suddenly stood still for Oikawa, his legs trembling uncontrollably. He had made no sound – it had come as too much of a surprise. His head was suddenly clear, even though his legs were still trembling from orgasm, and Ushijima slowly set him down on the shower floor while Oikawa looked wide-eyed between them.

“Have I just come dry?” he asked, incredulous. “Holy shit, I'm... I don't know what to say. That's definitely a first.”

Ushijima was not much of a talker during sex, so he just kissed Oikawa again, very gently, until Oikawa's legs finally stopped trembling and turned into pudding instead. He gave a long, content sigh, melting all over the shower floor, just lying there and letting the water rain down on him until Ushijima took the shower head back into his hands and started to wash both of their hair out.

When Ushijima finally talked again, Oikawa was too surprised to immediately hear what he was saying, and it took him a while to process that he had just been asked if he preferred raspberry or coco.

“Huh?” Oikawa asked, opening his eyes to the sight of Ushijima standing over him, holding two bottles of shower gel. It was a nice view, so he was distracted again, sitting up to face Ushijima's still hard dick.

“Hmmm,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against Ushijima's erection. “I think I prefer...” He pulled at the skin around Ushijima's balls with his lips, feeling unbelievably clever. “Nut?”

Ushijima just nodded and put the raspberry gel back into the rack. Oikawa had a hard time trying not to laugh – Ushijima would probably think he was laughing at his dick or something, which was definitely not something to laugh at. Oikawa lazily licked a line up his shaft, putting more pressure against the frenulum with his tongue, and Ushijima grunted again. He grabbed Oikawa under the armpits to pull him up before he could do anything more to Ushijima's dick, and Oikawa suddenly found that he wasn't ready to stand yet.

“When are you going to fuck me?” he asked, arms wrung around Ushijima's neck to hold himself up.

“Soon enough,” Ushijima said. “But first we need to be clean.”

He squeezed some of the coco gel into his hands and started to rub Oikawa's back with it. Oikawa closed his eyes, hanging off of Ushijima and silently enjoying the feeling of those hands rubbing all over his body. His ass was thoroughly kneaded, and Oikawa almost forgot how to stand again, but then Ushijima had to bend down to wash his thighs and feet as well, and Oikawa was left to lean against the shower wall, looking up to the ceiling and contemplating how the hell he had ever ended up here.

It had been just a little over a _week_ since he had made out with Ushijima in that club. Yes, Oikawa knew that he always fell fast and hard for people, and he would still deny that he was really _falling_ for Ushijima, but he didn't think anyone had ever made him feel so good that he seriously wondered if it was all just a dream. He shouldn't have read about lucid dreaming that damn much. Now he felt like reality was slipping on him.

Once he came back to his senses from his little trip of mind-wandering in the shower, he realized that Ushijima had already covered both of their bodies with the gel and was just reaching for the shower head to wash it all off. The smell of coconut was heavy and delicious, the sight of Ushijima, naked and hard and wet and shiny from the gel, was also delicious. Oikawa kept leaning against the wall behind him and watched Ushijima shower through half-lidded eyes. This was so much better than those few forbidden glances he had sometimes thrown his way in the open showers after a game. Now he didn't feel bad about looking.

“Just a warning,” Oikawa said, eyes traveling over Ushijima's body. “I'm weak sometimes, so I might start to urge you on. But the truth is that I like it slow, okay? I want you to fuck me all night. I want to be writhing and squirming. I want you to make me _cry_ with need. If I'm giving myself to you like this, not just with my body, but with my mind, I want you to enjoy what you've been given, and draw it out to the very last second. Do you understand?”

Ushijima just sent him a piercing glare. “You don't need to tell me this,” he said, laying one arm around Oikawa's waist to draw him closer and kiss him again. Seemed like he really disliked talking during sex. Oikawa already knew what he would be doing all the way through. For now though, he returned the kiss, arms slung around Ushijima's neck while Ushijima used his free hand to wash the rest of the soap off Oikawa's body. It came as a surprise when the stream suddenly stopped at Oikawa's dick, spraying against his sensitive shaft. The water-pressure wasn't as high as it had been on Ushijima before, so it wasn't much more than a gentle, tingling feeling, but it was still enough to make Oikawa's breaths shorter and he moaned into Ushijima's mouth.

“Alright, that's enough!” Oikawa finally decided. “Out of the shower before our skin turns wrinkly!”

Ushijima agreed with a grunt and turned the water off, hanging the shower head back in its holder. There were a bunch of towels stacked in a shelf right next to the shower, so Ushijima opened the door and snatched two of them, using one to gently rub Oikawa's hair and body dry. It felt amazing to be catered to like that, so Oikawa didn't move a muscle, just watched Ushijima's concentrated face.

“Carry me!” Oikawa demanded, once they were both dry. Ushijima didn't need to be told twice – he was probably planning to do it anyway. Tightly wrapped in their towels, Oikawa let Ushijima scoop him up, wrapping his legs around Ushijima's middle so that his cock was pressed between their bodies again. It felt nice, and Oikawa leaned in to kiss Ushijima, not leaving him any possibility but to navigate through his dorm blindly.

They reached the bed without stumbling over the bottles on the bathroom floor, or running into any furniture, and Oikawa was gently laid on the mattress, one last kiss pressed to his lips before Ushijima was suddenly gone.

“What the hell!” Oikawa complained. He heard Ushijima rummage through his products from the bathroom. “Get back here! You need to concentrate on _me_!”

“I'm about to,” Ushijima said when he came back, arm full of different bottles. “Close your eyes and relax.”

“What now – are you trying to be bossy?” Oikawa asked, sneering. “You know that I don't like that.”

“I'm just trying to make you feel good,” Ushijima said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and arranging his products in a line down to his feet. “You are already beautiful, Oikawa, but you don't seem to care for yourself much.”

“So what, you're trying to do it for me?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said simply, and Oikawa found that he didn't have the drive to fight it anymore. He had noticed it ever since yesterday – Ushijima still said things that would have made the old Oikawa explode with rage. Now, it didn't even faze him much. Seems like he got used to Ushijima's little quirks way too quickly.

“Don't think anything of it!” Oikawa said. “I'm just letting you get away with it because I don't have my dear Iwa-chan anymore.”

“You did this with Iwaizumi?” Ushijima asked, rubbing a bit of hair oil in his palms and leaning over to stroke his hands through Oikawa's hair.

“Well... not _exactly_ this,” Oikawa said. “More like... in general.”

“I would like to care for you in general, if you let me.”

Oh.

Was Ushijima asking him to be his boyfriend? Because it sure sounded like that. And it was not a fair moment to ask, with his fingers massaging Oikawa's scalp so soothingly. Oikawa closed his eyes, furrowed his brows, and finally said: “For now, just concentrate on what you're doing.”

Ushijima hummed in response, and finally, the talk was over. Oikawa kept his eyes closed and tried to just _feel_. Ushijima's hands were magic, everywhere on his body. After putting oil in his hair, he chose another bottle and started to rub body cream all over Oikawa, paying careful attention to every part on his body, until Oikawa was so relaxed that he felt like melting into the mattress. Once he was done, Ushijima carefully turned him on his stomach and started to apply more cream, this time combining it with a massage. Oikawa gave a loud moan when those strong thumbs dug between his shoulder blades, loosening the muscles with practiced movements. He knew that all Shiratorizawa players learned this, because Ushijima sometimes did it for the rest of their team, but Oikawa had always been too proud to ask him.

Now he knew that he had been stupid, because this was heaven. He didn't even care what his neighbors thought – especially since it was just Yahaba and Futakuchi, who had kept him awake with their own sounds on more nights than one. Ushijima was so thorough – he paid attention to everything – he massaged Oikawa's ears, and fingers, and feet. He found a sensitive spot on Oikawa's lower back and kneaded it until Oikawa begged him to stop. He put different types of oil and cream on every part of Oikawa's body. Oikawa had never felt so fresh and clean before.

No wonder Ushijima's hair had always felt so unexpectedly smooth. No wonder his lips were so soft, and his skin so flawless. He seemed to spend hours on his routine. Hours Oikawa usually spent eating dry cornflakes out of the carton and streaming funny series on his laptop.

Fuck, Ushijima really was so damn perfect, Oikawa almost started to hate him a little again.

The feeling only held until Ushijima's hands finally started to knead Oikawa's ass. Nowhere else had felt as amazing – Oikawa wouldn't have been able to keep the sounds to himself even if someone had threatened to burn the corn field with the crop circles. Ushijima put some more body cream on him, rubbing it into his skin with slow strokes, and Oikawa reached for his pillow to bury his head in, but then the pillow was stolen from his head and pushed under his belly, to make his ass stick higher in the air.

“Oh fuck!” Oikawa breathed, feeling Ushijima heavily lean over him to kiss his nape. “Oh fuck yes, just... just wreck me!”

“No,” said Ushijima. Oikawa tore his head around to complain, but Ushijima was already waiting, catching his lips before any sound could come out. They kissed sloppily, Ushijima slowly growing hard against Oikawa's ass, and the feeling made Oikawa's dick stir, too. They had calmed down after the shower, but now they were both ready to spend some more energy.

Ushijima released Oikawa's lips to mouth along his neck, and the back of his shoulders. His hands were drawing long lines along Oikawa's back, making him feel warm and cozy. Oikawa pressed his cheeks back against the mattress, enjoying Ushijima's lips traveling over his body, kissing down his spine until he reached the small of his back. There, he got distracted by the little dimples over Oikawa's ass, and he buried his thumbs in them, making Oikawa moan again.

“If you don't move on already,” Oikawa mumbled into the mattress, “I swear I will just... fucking walk away.”

Ushijima blew a breath of silent laughter against his skin.

“ You’re not taking me seriously?” Oikawa said. To be honest, he had no idea what exactly he was saying, because he was way too far gone, but at least it still sounded more or less coherent. “Just watch me. I'll prove it to you. You better make me be unable to walk before it happens.”

“Patience,” Ushijima said, pressing his mouth back against Oikawa's skin. The cream had made everything so smooth and slick that Ushijima could barely push his thumbs between Oikawa's buttocks to pull them apart. His mouth was still at Oikawa's dimples, dipping his tongue into them, and Oikawa shuddered with anticipation. Finally, Ushijima's tongue licked down the short line to Oikawa's hole. There was a relieved sigh coming out of Oikawa's mouth, even though he didn't feel any release at all. He could feel the tip of his own cock brush against his stomach, leaving a little wet spot. He was so ready for more. He hadn't even ejaculated once today, after being hard for such a large portion of time. The urge was starting to become unbearable.

“F- fuck me!” Oikawa demanded, but Ushijima didn't even reply anymore, just continued down to suck at his perineum. Oikawa would have felt dirty doing this, but today, he just felt so clean that he couldn't give a damn about what everything down there smelled like. He was so horny – with his ass in the air and Ushijima's face buried between his cheeks, he felt like he had never been truly intimate with anyone before. Ushijima's fingers tried to pull the slick skin apart again, so he had more space to press his mouth against Oikawa's ass and discover every little wrinkle with his tongue.

“Fuck!”

It was barely a sound anymore – maybe it was just a continuous thought, Oikawa couldn't tell. All he knew was that he needed Ushijima _inside_ , no matter how good it felt to have him suck on the soft skin down there. Ushijima's mouth moved with more force now – he needed to keep Oikawa's legs in place or he would have gotten kicked in the face. Ushijima's tongue fucked him without even penetrating, applying more and more pressure on Oikawa's prostate from the soft skin of his perineum. He sucked at it, pushed his tongue into it, sucked again, harder and faster, without getting tired. Maybe he just didn't need any oxygen at all, maybe he solely existed to make Oikawa feel good, make his thighs tremble uncontrollably, make his eyes roll back with pleasure.

When orgasm finally washed over him, it was dry again – just a cut-off breath, a short gasp, and then Oikawa's whole body bucked away from Ushijima's face, squirming.

Oikawa's hands were on his own cock before anyone could stop him, jerking himself desperately, but his orgasm was already over, and for a moment it just felt over-sensitive. Ushijima caught his hands, gently taking them in his own, kissing both palms.

“We'll get there,” he said, moving so he could lie next to Oikawa for a moment. His powerful form felt reassuring, so Oikawa pressed against him, seeking out his lips so he could distract himself with a kiss. It worked – Ushijima's hands drew him closer, avoiding all the sensitive parts for once, and just drawing soothing circles on Oikawa's back.

Of all possible people, it turned out to be Ushijima who had the exact amount of patience and ambition Oikawa required. Sure, sex was always fun, but most of his relationships so far had left Oikawa unsatisfied. Most people seemed to regard intercourse as an enjoyable little act – something short in-between, something that didn't require them to do any more work than move around a little. But to tell the truth – Oikawa wouldn't even care if he only had sex once a month if it was _good_ sex.

This? This was definitely good sex. This was _amazing_ sex. Oikawa had come twice and he was still ready to keep going, because Ushijima didn't just milk him like this was a deed to get over with, he actually took the time to get to know his body, inside and out. And he was incredibly good at what he was doing.

“Who _taught_ you all of this?” Oikawa suddenly asked, breaking their kiss to give Ushijima an offended glare. “Honestly, this is unreal! I never even knew that you had a boyfriend before!”

“I...” Ushijima began, opening his eyes. He looked no less offended, being forced to talk like this in the middle of their make-out. “I'm not sure if you could really call him my boyfriend. But there was... there was someone I tried a lot of this with.”

It was hard to catch, because Ushijima was trying to be sneaky and leaned back in to mouth at Oikawa's neck, but Oikawa saw the little blush suddenly spreading on his face.

“You are embarrassed!” he exclaimed with glee. “I need to know now! Who was it?”

“No one you know,” Ushijima groaned, turning to lie on his back and suddenly realizing that the bed wasn't big enough for him to just turn like that. He just caught himself from falling out, and Oikawa couldn't help laughing at his surprised face.

“Oh my God! Look at you, you're so awkward suddenly. Come on, you gotta tell me! Why are you so embarrassed?”

Ushijima looked slightly annoyed, but then he just huffed and put his arm back around Oikawa.

“It's because I was only with him... because he reminded me of you,” Ushijima finally admitted. “And I'm not proud of that.”

Oikawa was aware that he was beaming, and apparently it made Ushijima lose most of his annoyance, if the relaxing caterpillar eyebrows were to be believed. “Now I'm even more curious!” Oikawa said, shaking at Ushijima's shoulder until he got something like a little smile.

“I told you, you don't know him. He went to Karasuno.”

“Karasuno!” Oikawa exclaimed, beaming even more. “I know Karasuno!”

“Not the volleyball team. He played tennis,” Ushijima said. “So I doubt that you ever met him. He and I were both interviewed by the same sports magazine, because they were doing an article about Miyagi's most outstanding newcomers in sports.”

“And of course _I_ wouldn't be invited to that!” Oikawa gasped. “Is that what you're trying to say?”

“No, I... I was just telling you how I met him?”

“Tch!” Oikawa lightly flicked his nose as punishment, but didn't concentrate further on his annoyance. “Anyway – he was the one who taught you all of this?”

“Not really. I read about it, mostly. And then I tried it on him.”

“You read about it!” Oikawa said, incredulous. “Like, you just sat down at your computer and googled how to please a man?”

“Pretty much,” Ushijima said as Oikawa burst into laughter.

That was fucking hilarious. Ushijima was hilarious. _Ridiculous_.

Then again, it had led to a wonderful experience, so Oikawa wasn't going to complain.

“So that guy was just your guinea pig to practice on until you were good enough for the real deal, huh?” he said, stroking his hand along Ushijima's side. He was... he was really turned on by that thought, to be honest. Ushijima better not deny it and ruin Oikawa's nice little burst of narcissism, so Oikawa swallowed his answer with a kiss, rocking against Ushijima in the same motion, so he knew that the talk was finally over.

Time to get back to business.

Ushijima immediately caught on, and he was quick to turn Oikawa on his back, looming over him with a hungry expression. God, he looked ready to _eat_ him. Oikawa reached up to draw his hands through almost dry hair, pulling him back down for another kiss. He knew that Ushijima's dick was waiting, hard and ready to push into him, hit him in all the right places, slam him into the mattress. Oikawa started to leak just thinking about it.

He just wanted to come so bad.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Oikawa breathed into Ushijima's ear, catching the earlobe between his teeth and pulling at it for a moment.

Ushijima, unsurprisingly, just grunted. At least he was generous enough to rock his dick against Oikawa's, giving him just a little of that much-needed stimulation. Oikawa felt like his dick had never been this sensitive – even just rubbing against a bit of skin, he could feel all the fluids inside him readying to burst. He shuddered at the thought.

Ushijima's head wandered out of Oikawa's field of vision as he started to kiss down his neck, and Oikawa was left to stare at the ceiling and mourn the loss of that friction on his dick. Instead, Ushijima started to pay attention to Oikawa's nipples, quickly noticing that, while they were somewhat sensitive, they were not the part to focus on.

“I want to come!” Oikawa whined. He sounded annoying even in his own ears, but he didn't care. This was Ushijima, after all. He had seen Oikawa from worse sides. “Let me come just once! I promise I'll be able to go again, I'm still young and fit! Just... let me _come!_ ”

Ushijima didn't regard his whining with any reaction, he just kept moving down towards Oikawa's crotch, building his hopes, and then destroying them by suddenly lifting his lower half and pushing the pillow back under it.

“Betrayal!” Oikawa complained, but he was quickly silenced when Ushijima's tongue was back on his perineum, still sensitive from all the attention it had gotten before.

“Oh my God! Are you just gonna fucking continue this-”

Ushijima's mouth moved further down until he reached his hole, and there he finally stopped, probing with his tongue how far it could still be stretched.

“Shit!” Oikawa moaned. “Shit, okay, yes – go in. Just go in, I don't-”

The flat of Ushijima's tongue pressed against him, not trying to penetrate, just loosening the ring of muscles again, and Oikawa finally stopped talking. He threw an arm over his eyes, holding his breath as he was worked open again, slowly, tortuously. All the while, his dick was throbbing with need, begging to be freed from all the pressure built up inside. But it was utterly disregarded – Ushijima was totally fixated on his ass, tongue finally pushing inside, just the tip, then he was licking around the ring again, driving Oikawa crazy. It felt like his whole body was vibrating with the need to come. Ushijima's tongue pushed in again, working carefully and slowly, until Oikawa could feel tears gather in his eyes.

There – Ushijima was making him cry with need, just like he had asked of him, and then, he finally pushed in, leaving just a small sting, just enough for Oikawa to give a loud moan and fumble for the head between his legs to push him closer.

At least Ushijima's tongue wasn't long enough to reach his prostate, so Oikawa felt safe for a moment, until he felt a finger being added to the tongue, slipping in alongside it, not even needing any lube. It wasn't easy for Ushijima to keep Oikawa still with one hand, since his whole body was thrashing. Oikawa cried out when his prostate was touched again, combined with the tongue teasing every sensitive fiber around his hole. He had to grab on to the sheets so he wouldn't be tempted to just jerk himself off. He knew that Ushijima knew what he was doing. He wanted to _experience_ it, to the fullest.

The world started to blur again, and then Oikawa bucked up, but this time, Ushijima was ready – a heavy hand on his stomach held him down, the other kept massaging his prostate while Oikawa's upper body sat up from the force of orgasm, shaking him to the core. This was so much different from what orgasm usually felt like. This lasted so much longer, made him feel warm throughout his body, but it didn't leave him satisfied for long. Oikawa slammed back down on the bed, breathing heavily and squirming off Ushijima's finger.

“Alright,” he said, panting. He was still just looking up at the ceiling. “Alright. That was three times. _Three_ times. How much fluids do you think my prostate has produced by now? This is going to end like that one Scary Movie scene, I swear!”

“I never saw those movies,” Ushijima commented from between his legs, but Oikawa was too out-of-breath to laugh.

“I don't care. I'll care some other time. Right now, I just care about you _entering_ me!”

He turned, almost knocking the little box he was reaching for off the shelf. It contained a bottle of lube and some condoms, and Oikawa threw all of it at Ushijima's head.

“I'm not joking!” he said. “Fuck me, or I will do it myself!”

“I was about to do it,” Ushijima said, sounding obviously amused. At least he seemed to actually mean it, because he picked a condom from the box, and Oikawa could only hear rustling for a moment, as he put it on. He closed his eyes, hoping it would make the whole process go by faster. Of course Ushijima had to warm the gel between his palms first, that was just such an Ushijima thing to do. Oikawa bit his lips, trying to be patient, but he couldn't help bucking up eagerly, when he finally felt the lube being applied to his entrance.

Two fingers slipped in with almost no resistance. The third one required some more stretching, but it didn't take long, at least not in reality. In Oikawa's head, it felt like hours.

“Enough!” he said. “I can take it. Just _put it in_!”

Ushijima, sadly, knew exactly how big he was, so he didn't let Oikawa's impatience faze him, and kept going as slow as before, working him thoroughly open, until he was ready to fit Ushijima's dick.

And finally, finally came the time when Oikawa was filled.

It knocked every last breath from him. Ushijima just slipped inside, brushing past his abused prostate, and suddenly Oikawa was trembling again, just thinking, 'What the hell!' until every thought was drowned out by pure pleasure.

When he was able to think again, he looked down, seeing that his stomach was still dry.

It was _outrageous!_

“What the hell did you do to me?” Oikawa moaned, thrashing his head to the side and breathing hard. “Am I just going to come every time you brush past it? Because there is such a thing as too much, you know?”

“No, that was surprising to me, too,” Ushijima said. He looked down at Oikawa in wonder, not daring to move another inch. “Your body is so sensitive. It really is amazing.”

“Just let me die in peace,” Oikawa said, reaching up to pull him down. That way, there was finally some friction against his dick. Not much, but it might just be enough. “I'm really afraid of the ejaculation that's about to come. You will be catapulted right into the ceiling and then you will die, and I will forever be haunted by that super orgasm, knowing that no one will be able to replicate it.”

“I think there would be quite a few people, if they just read up on the subject,” Ushijima pondered, putting some of his weight against Oikawa as he laid on top of him.

“Then again,” Oikawa said, “you will probably be able to kill this mutant boner just by talking.”

“I'm not the one who insists on talking so much,” Ushijima pointed out, and to keep them from going in circles, he just muted Oikawa with a kiss. Oikawa was thankful for it – he slung his arms around Ushijima, hugging him close, just nibbling at his lips before Ushijima opened his mouth to draw his tongue along Oikawa's bottom lip. He was careful not to move, even though it had to be difficult. After all, Ushijima had been hard and untouched at least as long as Oikawa was, and the sudden tightness around his cock had to kill him.

Still, he kept kissing Oikawa, grounding him with his weight, his thumbs drawing soothing circles to Oikawa's temples, until Oikawa could finally calm down. He indicated that he was ready by rocking up, feeling Ushijima's dick brush past his prostate again, but while it was still sensitive, it didn't just push him over the edge. Ushijima kept kissing him, even when he started to move, slowly, in and out. He kept that slow rhythm going almost all the way through.

It was nice, and relaxing on one hand – on the other, it would never be enough friction on Oikawa's dick to make him come – but at least it was _something_. Oikawa tried to speed things up by raising his hips to meet him, but Ushijima was unfazed, and Oikawa was soon distracted by his mouth sucking and pulling at his bottom lip.

After a while, Ushijima finally started to go deeper. Still slow, but he pushed as deep as he could, and made Oikawa groan loud with every thrust – less the force of it and more the promise for it to finally move on. Oikawa could feel his dick twitch in anticipation, leaving a bit of fluid between their moving bodies. It felt like he was so full, his dick was just going to start leaking.

“Oikawa...”

Ushijima's rumbling voice suddenly sounded desperate. “Can I-”

“ _Yes_!” Oikawa gasped, burying his fingers deep into Ushijima's shoulders. “ _Fuck yes!_ ”

He hadn't expected for Ushijima to just pull out so suddenly, leaving him empty. Before he knew what was going on, Ushijima reached for a towel that had slipped to the floor at one point, spreading it out on the bed and then turning Oikawa around with one swift motion, so that his dick was pressed against the mattress. Then Ushijima was already inside him again, from an even better angle. Oikawa was pushed into the mattress by his weight, Ushijima thrusting in with his whole body, and Oikawa spread his legs further to open himself up as much as possible. He wanted Ushijima to hit _deep_ , he wanted to feel him in his very core, but mostly, he wanted to _come_.

Ushijima's hips stuttered, losing control over his rhythm as he started to slam inside, rocking the whole bed against the wall. Oikawa had been mostly silent, by his standards, but now the sounds were literally fucked out of him. After all this slow build-up, his body was almost too shocked by the overwhelming friction to really react, but then, finally, Ushijima lifted his weight off Oikawa, making him raise his hips enough to squeeze a hand between Oikawa and the mattress. And then that hand was on Oikawa's cock, and it felt like something short-circuited in Oikawa's brain.

Ushijima was still fucking into him, hitting his prostate, and Oikawa lost his breath – he couldn't scream, couldn't make any sound at all, except for a broken stutter. Ushijima fucked him through it, even though Oikawa was vibrating wildly, having lost all control he ever had over his body. It took an almost painful amount of time until he finally felt liquid shoot through him. Ushijima stopped thrusting, but he kept jerking his dick with one hand, probably trying to milk him dry. Oikawa was finally able to scream again. The sheer force of the release was the most amazing thing he had ever felt. And it just didn't stop. More and more liquid shot out of him, soaking the towel. Oikawa had no idea where he had even stored this much cum. It felt like this was never-ending, like his dick would just keep throbbing forever. It came in phases, one squirt after the other, each one more surprising than the last, and when Oikawa finally thought there wasn't a drop of liquid left in him, he could feel Ushijima's body spasm inside him as he finally came, too, pushing Oikawa far enough that he felt like he would just pass out from coming too much. One last load shot out of him. Oikawa's whole face was wet from spit and tears. But then it was over, he was finally able to come down from the peak, Ushijima staying inside him just a little longer to let him calm down in peace before he pulled out, leaving Oikawa with a short-lasting feeling of pure emptiness. There was _nothing_ left inside him. No liquid, no pressure, no nothing. He was just a puddle of nothing.

He barely noticed Ushijima's hands stroking over his body. He barely even noticed him getting up and disappearing into the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth and a glass of water. He only came to after Ushijima was done wiping him clean, and was just about to put more body cream on him. Ushijima put it to the side and reached for the glass of water he had deposited on the shelf, holding it against Oikawa's lips and looking at him expectantly.

“... Please don't tell me you want coffee now,” Ushijima said, when Oikawa took too long to take a sip. Amazingly, Oikawa's reaction was to laugh, even though he didn't have the energy for something like laughing. Ushijima had fucked him so good that he didn't even know who he was anymore.

He took the water, emptying it in one, long gulp, and then he let himself fall back into the mattress, leaving it to Ushijima to do whatever the hell he pleased. Oikawa couldn't move another muscle. He was done for. He had transcended into another dimension, he was just floating around in space, he was closer to meeting his beloved aliens than he had been in the corn field.

He was so happy, he wanted to cry.

Ushijima got up one more time, to open a window, letting in a gust of cool, fresh air that Oikawa breathed in greedily. Even though they just had sex, everything felt so clean. His bed sheets still smelled of laundry detergent, his skin was coated in multiple layers of cream that no drop of sweat could penetrate, and even his room was tidy, for a change. The dirty towel and condom were nowhere to be seen.

“Thank you...”

Oikawa had no control over his mouth, and the words spilled out unhindered. Ushijima's silhouette, gleaming in the dim light from the streetlamp somewhere under the window, turned to him.

“For having sex with you?” he asked, sounding confused.

Oikawa reached for a pillow to hide his smile in, but he was too tired to lift it. “Yeah, I guess,” he snorted, watching Ushijima come closer, until the earnest caterpillar brows were hovering right before him.

“It was no problem,” Ushijima said, and Oikawa wished he had the strength to sit up and kiss him.

“Idiot...” Oikawa tried to shuffle closer to the wall so that Ushijima would fit into the bed without falling out in his sleep. It wouldn't be easy, but Oikawa didn't mind the leg intertwining with his, and how Ushijima lay half above his body, one arm circling his chest. He was warm, but they slept with the windows open and the blanket buried somewhere underneath them, so it was alright.

“Thank you, too.”

Oikawa barely caught the words before he drifted off to sleep, not sure if he was already dreaming or not. They were more of a breath grazing his skin than an actual sound.

“For giving me a chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://topftopf.tumblr.com/) :)


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